Victoria Primus
by Kate-CorvusAlbus
Summary: The Hive World Victoria Primus is facing a Genestealer infestation; a Deathwatch Kill Team under Inquisitor Nicomedo is send to destroy the Brood before the planet defenses are compromised, and the Tyranid Fleet devours the sector. Mentioned by Sergeant Cyrus in Dawn of War 2, as his Tyranid encounter during his time with the Deathwatch.
1. Prologue

Author's Note

For starters I should point out that English is not my native language, so I apologize for the any butchering of said language, which might have happened. Plus this is my first written story ever.

With that said, this is not a work of complete accuracy when it comes to details of the Warhammer 40k universe, so please no fuss, because I haven't researched your favorite Space Marine chapter properly, and so got their preferred brand of breakfast cereals wrong.

I will rewrite several chapters knew, depending on when I find time to do so.

* * *

The streets were filled with fog and smog, making it impossible to look further than five meters. Not that it was necessary to those living in the lower levels of the Spire. Narrow streets and alleys had created a labyrinth in which any outsider would get lost in a matter of minutes. Every façade looked the same; there was barely anything that could have been used to pinpoint one's position. You knew your way around, or would find yourself soon mugged and sliced up somewhere in the gutter; still, this was a place millions called home. The buildings were like grey blocks, reaching up into the clouded sky, without any sign of gothic design that distinguished imperial monuments and wealthier parts of the spire. The acidic rain had left its mark upon the rough material, making it look almost porous.

A lone man strode through the streets, getting to work the early shift, hours before dawn in one of the many garbage plants. He wasn't exactly found of his job but it brought food on the table, at least when the prices were right. A rustling noise to his left in another unlit alley shortly got his attention. Yet after a second or two his eyes were back on the way before him. Probably a rat, maybe a gang member, but in his ragged clothes he didn't make a promising target and most likely would be left alone. He yawned, rubbing his red eyes, with no attention to where he was going. After all he worked at that plant for years; he could literally walk the way in his sleep, a skill coming quite in handy that morning.

Suddenly something ran over his feet, making him jump back a bit, just in time to catch a glimpse on a rat. Cursing the small mammal he rubbed over his eyebrow, as several more, came from another alley to his left. He counted about ten, and gave the alley a short glare, eyes still on the ground, the only thing he could actually make out in the brownish fog. Something red caught his attention. Probably another homicide, those happened all the time, and had long-lost their shock value. Curiously he stepped closer. First thing he found was an arm, seemingly once belonging to a man, though the rest appeared to be missing. He checked the upper arm, were the limb had been separated from its former owner. The rats already had taking their share, though one could still see large cuts, as made with a really sharp knife. Aye, it was not good to refuse payment to the gangs, that one had learned the hard way.

The plant worker shrugged and was back on his way, he was only five minutes away from his destination. It was silent again, the only signs of life, being a few lights in small windows, which purpose never had been to be see-through. His muscles tensed, cramped and his hand wandered down to is abdomen. Warm blood ran over his fingers, eyes wandering down to hideous bony claws. Flesh and blood covered them, his flesh and blood. A rasped grasp escape is throat, more blood flowing over his lips, down his chin and neck. The claws clenched, still in his body and were turned, before they ribbed out whatever remained of the man's intestine. His body collapsed, his limbs twitching in his last fight, as he was choking up blood, the eyes wide open in shock and pain.

A six limbed creature emerged from the shadows, a long tongue licking the bloodied claws, yellow glowing eyes pinned on its prey. It raised its head sniffing in the air, before it growled and picked up the body, dragging it back to the shadows from whence it came.

People disappear in the Underhive; no one comes looking for a lone plant worker.

* * *

No matter once position, the chambers onboard the Adrastos were sparsely decorated by design. Small and grey, hardly welcoming or comfortable, but functional: a desk, chair, bed and cupboard, where the Inquisitor kept what few personal items he possessed. The four light bulbs, distributed one to each of the walls, only spread dim light, not more than candles would, but he didn't require or for that matter desired more light. Inquisitor Basil Nicomedo belonged to the Ordo Xenos, a man of over two hundred years and the first silver hair throughout his black. His right eye had been replaced with a cybernetic, where an Eldar Shurike had hit him, to his luck not before losing enough velocity to slice deeper into his head. He wore a sober grey suit under a long high collared coat, black on the outside, red on the inside. An Inquisitorial rosette was pinned to the front of his the latter.

Currently he was again going over the list of chosen Space Marine, who would make up the Kill Team he was to lead. Seven Marines had been chosen for this mission; it wouldn't be a particularly large team but sufficient. The genestealer outbreak appeared to be in an early stage, and as Inquisitor Nicomedo could still request any kind of resources the sector offered, should it become necessary. However he wouldn't contact local imperial authorities, or even inform them of his presence or mission unless unavoidable; there was still the chance they were already infiltrated by the xenos.

The list began with the Ultramarine Apothecarian Seneca; ever since the Hive Fleet Behemoth, the chapter had vast experience with Tyranids, which would be an advantage during the coming mission. With him came another brother, Sergeant Tullius, Tactical Marine. It continued with Brother Cornelius from the Crimson Fists and brother Maccius Raven Guard, the latter an Assault Marine. There was also a Devastator from the Salamanders, Sergeant Nadim, along with another of the Red Scorpions, Brother Quintus. Finally from the Blood Ravens came Scout Sergeant Cyrus. Except for Cornelius, each of these men had already served in the Deathwatch, and Nicomedo was glad for these experienced veterans. He had only once been in contact with Genetealers, though it had been on a merchant's ship, and they were enemies not to be underestimated. A Genestealer was a Tyranid, about the size of a man, with six limbs, powerful claws, vicious teeth and tough exoskeleton. To boot, they were fast and agile, preferring sneak attacks and coming in large packs.

Still Nicomedo was also accompanied by his own operatives, a hand full of people, following him into every mission for over two decades now. The Inquisitor leaned back in his chair, a hand wandering to his chin and pictured them in his mind. There was his Interrogator, Nathan Mandrake, a tall and rather skinny man, but talented Psyker with a bright mind and serious demeanor. He had the tendency to annoy his fellow Acolytes with information, no one really cared to learn about. Lucian Brennan on the other hand was a former guardsman who had taken to bounty hunting before being recruited by the Inquisitor. Large, with broad shoulders, he dwarfed any other of Nicomedo's Acolytes and is bald, scarred head with a face showing almost always grim determination, had sometimes been sufficient enough to discharge a critical situation.

Another of his Acolytes came directly from the Guard's Storm Troopers; Seth Nelson had been at the wrong time at the wrong place, leaving him only with the choice to either be executed or join the Inquisitor. It had proven difficult to integrate him into the band, and had long remained the outsider of the group. Brennan had usually kept him in check, and one day simply thrown out the stash of booze he'd found in Nelson's room. To this day, Nicomedo wasn't sure how he'd acquired it in the first place. The Storm Trooper had gotten better after the latest recruiting; with two more in a similar situation, Nelson had become more accepting of his situation. Nowadays the former Storm Trouper kept his brooding for when he was alone.

The two latest addition to his Acolytes was a medicae called Jane Pravin, who, when he first met her, had been still in training of the Officio Medicae, but skilled nonetheless. While she had been rather intimidated and almost scared by her ca´hange of position, Jane had pulled through, and proved also skilled in the field, after Brennan had shown her how to shoot. At the time the Inquisitor recruited her, she'd been taken care of the man Nicomedo had come for in to the hospital in the first place. He was an Untouchable, a true Pariah, and the idea had been to use him against an Eldar Farseer, though had proven useful in other missions as well. An Untouchable was a psychic Blank, a human who possessed the rare Pariah Gene that made them generate no presence in the Warp, and so his proximity to someone who possessed even a modicum of psychic ability could be quite painful or even lethal. Horaz Taylor was such a blank, but even to someone without any psychic abilities his presence was irritating, causing discomfort and even prompting hostility. This had gotten him into the hospital in the first place.

Nicomedo was curious of how they would work together with Veteran Space Marines. Even among themselves, Space Marines of different chapters could provide calamitous conflict, despite those chosen for the Deathwatch usually put those petty differences aside. It would be interesting to see though, how they would interact with "normal" human. He tightened his suit and coat, and picked up his Bolt Pistol, a smaller model than the Astartes Mark III, before leaving his chambers. The corridors of the Adrastos had the same gun-metal grey coloring of the room, lamps dealt cool light, and the humming of machines was omnipresent as he strode to the bridge. Only few servants crossed his way, as they were preparing the ship for departure. Soon they would leave for Victoria Primus.

On the bridge he met with his Ship Mistress, a former Rogue Trader, who provided her ship to the Inquisitor for almost a hundred years. By this time Vivian Samael could be considered just as much part of the Inquisition as any of his Acolytes.

"You seem tense." Nicomedo noted.

The Ship Mistress was about as tall as himself, of slender build and dark skin, from which her white collar set itself apart. Her brown eyes darted at him. "Seven Astartes; of course I'm a little unnerved, and so is my crew. Do I have to remind you this ship is not adequate for warfare?"

"If this mission goes well, it won't come to that." He assured her.

Nicomedo could hear her snort. "When does it ever go right?"

* * *

_omnes eodem cogimur_

_We all are constrained to the same place_


	2. Chapter 2

Evening had come over the Adrastos, as the ship was making for Victoria Primus through the warp. The Briefing Room was hexagonal room, its walls covered with currently black monitors, a strategium table at the center, and during these hours rather crowed; almost a dozen people had gathered there, half of them Veterans of the Adeptus Astartes. Sergeant Cyrus knew most, having been on mission with them before, like Sergeant Nadim on a campaign against the Dark Eldar, or Dusk-Wraiths as the Salamander had called them. Nadim, like his entire chapter, had obsidian-black skin and blazing red eyes, his head was clean-shaven, while his chin showed bright red stubble. Said Sergeant was talking with a brother from the Crimson Fists, Cornelius. Different from the rest, this would be his first mission with the Deathwatch. Like most Marines, his brown hair was close-cropped, and there was a long scar crossing his face horizontally, beneath his eyes.

Cyrus' attention wandered over to the Inquisitor's Acolytes, standing at the opposite side of the room and strategium table. They were four, one of them a woman wearing the white uniform-robe of the Officio Medicae over a black body glove, auburn hair and green eyes, talking to a man in a dark brown coat, his hair long, black and messy; along with the dark rings around his bright blue eyes, he seemed somewhat shabby. Cyrus noticed a cybernetic around his neck, almost like a collar. Behind them, leaning against the wall, stood another man about the same age, his head clean-shaven apart from a black close-cropped stripe, as if he had chopped off a mohawk. He also had a goatee and a brown eye, while the other was green. The last was a broad-shouldered man, who dwarfed the others by at least a head, instead of hair his head was covered with scars. His grey eyes were cold and derived of emotion, both his hands were cybernetic.

Only moments later the Inquisitor arrived, followed by the Ultramarine Apothecary Seneca, a man with many studs, and short white hair and beard, as well as a fifth Acolyte, like the Inquisitor well dressed, very slender and long brown hair that was bound together. He appeared to be the Inquisitors Interrogator.

Said Inquisitor took his place at the strategium table in the room's center, the Apothecary beside him."My Lords, welcome aboard the Adrastos. I am Inquisitor Basil Nicomedo, and as you know, I'll be leading this Kill Team during the coming mission on the imperial world known as Victoria Primus." He activated the strategium table, where a holographic simulation of a Hive-planet appeared. "The Ordo Xenos has been informed of a Genestealer infestation, which must be eradicated. Genestealers are Tyranid life-forms, the vanguard of their Hive-Fleets, infiltrating and destroying the infrastructure of a world, when not stopped. These xenos are about the size of a man, with six limbs, usually use powerful claws, vicious teeth as their weapons and possess a tough exoskeleton that can even withstand bolter-fire to a certain degree. In battle they are extremely fast and agile, preferring sneak attacks and hunting in larger packs. There is a hierarchy within their Cults or Broods, which include human hosts, Hybrids and Genestealers. They are all psychically-linked to each other, for us it means they won't know fear and are more coordinated than one might expect from such feral looking beasts.

The Brood is lead by a Patriarch, the first and original Genestealer of the brood, through which all other are linked. It is a very powerful psyker, more intelligent and much larger physically than other Genestealer. Once the Patriarch is killed the Cult will be thrown into disarray, making it our primary objective to take it out as soon as possible, along with the Magus, another potent psyker, relaying orders to the Brood's members."

Inquisitor Nicomedo turned to his Acolytes behind him. "For this reason we will be joined by my Acolyte Horaz Taylor." The man in the coat, nodded in recognition. "He's an Untouchable, his presence is almost insufferable to psykers, even deadly to the most powerful ones. His abilities should disrupt the psychic link between the xenos, giving us an advantage when we attack their nest. Said nest's location is currently unknown, though through information gathered by our sources it is deep within the spire Obsaepio; we will land there and my Acolytes will locate the nest, as soon as we arrive on Victoria Primus."

Apothecary Seneca took the word. "At this point we are unable to plan our attack, however we should prepare for battle in close quarters. The Inquisitor informed me that we'll be receiving a specimen at our arrival, and then I will exemplify the nature of our enemy. We will deploy as soon as the nest has been located and analyzed."

* * *

About an half an hour after the meeting the canteen of the Adrastos was almost empty that night; the room was dominated by three long tables, where the Inquisitor, his Acolytes, officers on the Adrastos, and now seven more Astartes, took their meals. Right now three people sat on the center table, with everything else in the room laid in shadows. Jane Pravin and Seth Nelson sat across from Sergeant Nadim, who other than his battle-brother still felt a certain connection to common humans, and had not retired to his room. The three had decided to get acquainted; the two Acolytes had never talked with a Space Marine before, and the Salamander was willing to build some trust. They all would face vile xenos, he wanted to know how dependable and experienced the Inquisitor's Acolytes were. Once they were down there, in the Spires of Victoria Primus there would be no room for doubt or mistakes.

Besides, Sergeant Nadim was a man who enjoyed a good conversation, and his battle-brothers shared little to nothing with one another. Both Pravin and Nelson had presented themselves with little timidity when it came to Astartes, so following a casual exchange of words after the briefing, they had parted from the crew and retired to the canteen; the closest thing the ship had to a common room.

Nadim had just told them about Nocturne, and tried o convince them that his unnatural skin color was normal for his chapter, as Taylor entered the canteen, a large glass bottle in his left hand. Jane recognized it as Amasec , a potent alcoholic liquor popular across the Imperium, and thanks to the Inquisitor perhaps, a finer brand. Seth had noticed it as well and raised a questioning, but not dismissive eyebrow.

"Thought you wanted to keep that till after the mission?"

The Untouchable shrugged. "I'm to go down into the Genestealers' lair, so I can give the Magus the biggest headache of his rapidly shortened life. My chances of getting out of there in one piece are not reassuringly high, so I thought to myself: If not today, I never get to it." He looked at the small group expectant. "What? No happy cheers? This thing cost a fortune!"

Jane stood. "I get the glasses. My Lord…?"

The Marine nodded, as Seth examined the bottle closer. "We haven't had a drink together since Vindobona. Ah, that frozen hell; how do I not miss it." He mused with a moony smile.

"What are you complaining about?" Taylor asked as he sat down. "It's Brennan whose hands froze off." Jane had removed said hands as soon as they had reached the Adrastos, while the rest had completed the mission, hunting down an alien specimen, some believed to be connected with Tyranid Hive-Fleets, but evolved independently.

"At least no one died…that time." The mood between the two men had suddenly dropped." Nice knowing ya by the way." Seth mentioned, after a short time of silence, trying to sound sympathetically.

His friend scoffed. "Dear Emperor, if I die, I'm making sure you're coming with me."

"Why?" This time he sounded slightly worried. "If it's because the _Take him, his flesh is more tender!- _incident, when we met that Kroot clan, I should mention you're not exactly claiming the moral high ground between us two."

Seth's words were met with a chuckle. "And don't you forget it."

The Salamader shock his head. In this small circle they seemed so without inhibition, despite his presence, which was quite congenial after years with Battle Brother of different chapters, who kept mostly to themselves. Though not participating himself, he felt quite entertainment. Nadim admitted to himself that he missed his chapter, his brothers, the daily routines and Nocturne; the hostile volcanic planet he called home. The Salamanders were maybe the only chapter, which continued to interact with the people of their homeworld. Until Jane returned with four glasses, they all remained silent, so the Marine picked up the conversation again, when she placed them on the table.

"So, you're the Inquisitor's medicae?" Nadim asked Jane, as Taylor dealt the drinks.

Jane nodded and sat down between Seth and Taylor. "I stitched these guys back together, or help Nicomedo _questioning _suspects." The last part was underlined with a sad tone. "When you know how to save people, you know how to hurt them."

"Guess that wasn't your idea of a carrier." Seth snickered, which she replied with a grin.

"I guess that wasn't my parents' intention when the send me to the Officio Medicae in the first place. Well, it's not like any of us chose to be with the Inquisition."

" 'cept maybe for Mandrake." Taylor noted. "Psykers don't really get the free-roaming card in life."

"Neither do Untouchables." The hacker glared over to Seth, but then sighted in recognition and returned his attention to the Amasec.

Nadim regarded him with curiosity. "I must admit, I've never met an Untouchable before."

"I'm afraid your Librarians wouldn't be too thrilled about my company, my Lord." A sad smile appeared on his face. "Actually, no one is thrilled about my company, not in a good way at least, though the inhibitor lessens the effect somewhat." He tapped on the cybernetic around his neck. "Even to someone without psychic abilities I can be rather discomforting and even prompting hostility. That's what got me into the hospital in the first place, where Jane here patched me up, and Nicomedo found me…well, us."

"And he took you both with you?" Nadim wasn't familiar with the recruiting methods of Inquisitor, at least one who seem to find his coincidentally on his missions.

"Yes, he kinda needed a new medicae after his last didn't do so well, taking an orc spalta to the chest." Seth explained.

"And how did you join his Acolytes?"

"Let's just say it was during a campaign against the Eldar. I was with my squad behind enemy lines, and well…command sort of completely forgot about us. No communication, supplies, nothing. So, after weeks of sneaking through that emperor forsaken forest, I ended up the sole survivor, desperately trying to make my way back to my comrades." He stopped to drink some of the Amasec. "I honestly rather randomly stumbled over the Inquisitor; he and is current Acolytes at that time were fighting off a small group of Eldar aspect warriors, and Nicomedo had taken a shurike to the eye, hence the cybernetic he's got now, so naturally I shot some xenos. Not sure if I actually saved his life as he puts it, but he allowed me to tag along. When the mission was over he gave me the choice to either join him as an Acolyte, or take a bullet to the head, for secrecy sakes." Seth emptied his glass and refilled it, giving Jane a suggestive look. "It seems we both have been victim to bad timing." Under the table a hand wandered to her thigh.

Her reply came in a calm, almost passive manner. "Hands off, or I'll be adding a Vasectomy to your next examination."

A pair of hands was raised to the air in a defensive manner. "Right!"

"Come on, Jane." Taylor interrupted. "He didn't get laid in a quite a while."

She gave him a dry smile. "If you want to take one for the team; go ahead."

It earned her a chuckle from the Untouchable. "I pass."

"Thank you." Seth exclaimed, and emptied is glass in one go.

With a smile on his lips, Nadim listened amused to their conversation, but had yet not failed to notice a figure standing in the shadow of the doorway for the past two minutes. "I believe it's time for me to depart. It was a pleasure meeting you all."

"My Lord." Jane said and nodded as a goodbye, as did the other two.

Nadim left the canteen and met with his battle-brother, waiting outside. "Sergeant Cyrus, you could have joined us." He addressed his fellow Sergeant.

Like Nadim the Blood Raven still wore his armor, though his face betrayed no emotion. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You wouldn't have. We were just getting acquainted with one another; I thought one should know the people he'll be fighting alongside."

A corner of Cyrus' briefly twitched upwards, probably the attempt of a smile, a rare sight, considering he kept most emotions well hidden. Even for a Space Marine Cyrus was a man of few words, but when he spoke he was sharp-tongued and cynical, which wasn't earning him much favor. As far as Nadim could judge him, Cyrus didn't care much for his popularity or glory for that matter; no, he seemed to care more for the success of a mission and the lives of his battle-brothers. Other than most Astartes the Scout Sergeant didn't prefer head on attacks, rather flanking maneuvers and tactics most of their brothers found cowardly or at least incongruous. Nadim however was pragmatic, as taught and embraced by the Salamanders, and saw value in unusual tactics; it made them less predictable. Besides Kill Teams were small by design, and not meant to draw much attention to themselves, like any institution of the Inquisition.

"I'm afraid the Salamanders are the only ones, who still feel somewhat connected to the people of the empire." Cyrus noted as they continued along the vacant corridor.

Nadim shocked his head. "A shame other chapters have alienated from their people."

"If you say so."

"Do I sense judgment on your part?" Nadim cocked an eyebrow.

"Was I being too subtle?" Came the calm response.

The Salamander sighed, but gave Cyrus a sympathetic smile. "Maybe it's for the better you don't care much for casual conversation. Why do you dismiss the notion of interacting with those under our protection?"

Cyrus though about his answer. "We no longer belong among them; our duties center on warfare, the pursuit and elimination of the enemy. Different from them we have no life alongside. As we proceed we lose much of what they would consider human, the battles become simpler, purer, methodical and it should be; all the horror we face in centuries of war. We can endure more than normal men, but we are not without limits. No matter what chapter we're from none of us remains unaffected by the deaths of our brothers.

The death of civilians is unavoidable in war, and it is pointless to dwell on their fates; it doesn't help them, and makes things more complicated for us. It just simpler to keep a distance and fulfill your duties, and not be in conflict with trying to save as many as you can." The Scout Sergeant turned his head to Nadim. "But don't mistake it for complete indifference; I'd rather see them survive than die, however I have learned that no matter what, you'll never be able to help them as much as you what to."

"How very pragmatic."

"I was under the impression that it's approved by the Promethean Cult."

"Yes, and you have seemed to mastered self-reliance as well as isolationism… Now how about that self-sacrifice for others; an opportunity appears to be presenting itself very soon." Nadim mused.

"I wouldn't solely rely on that."

* * *

Seth waited until the footsteps of both Astartes had vanished before he spoke. "I have to admit, this Space Marines seemed more _human_ than I originally thought, contrary to the servitor-like personality I'd expected them to have."

"_Servitor-like personality_?" Jane asked, looking at Taylor questioning, who simply shrugged.

"You know, formal, cold, emotionless; but rather than programmed to sweep the floor, programmed to pull the trigger on anything that things eight-pointed stars are fashionable or possesses a green skin complexion."

The three laughed. This happened before every mission; they would sit together, drink, talk, and gamble, most times Lucien Brennan would join them. Not much of a talker, but a hell of a gambler, he had emptied their pockets on several occasions; thankfully Brennan was a better winner than Seth. The former Guardsman loved rubbing his victories in their faces, while the Bounty Hunter only showed a smile, before buying them all drinks. A nice gesture at first, but it let them to lose even their last coins in the following games.

Just as the laughter ended, footsteps announced their next guest. "Seems I'm late." Brennan noticed, picking up Seth's glass, emptying it before the man could voice his protest, but seeing as the bottle was empty, he kept his mouth shut for once.

"We had a nice talk with Sergeant Nadim." The medicae told him.

"Well." Seth began to clarify. "More like, we talk and he listened. He contributed very little, mostly ask stuff and even that was short lifed."

She shrugged. "He could hardly share internal information about his chapter; we of all people should know. Besides; it's surprising he talked to us at all."

Her words were met with a nod of agreement by Taylor. "Plus I could add Nocturne to the world I never want to visit."

"So," Seth turned his attention back to the Bounty Hunter. "What makes you turn up late for our traditional drink?"

"Tried to sleep, pain's coming up again, and no Jane, I don't require painkillers." He lifted a hand to clarify. "Unfortunately sleep seems to elude me." Brennan growled.

"Probably because it has met you before." The former bounty-hunter glared over the Seth but remained silent and continued into the kitchen. "Oi, where are you going?"

Before passing through the door at the other side of the room Brennan turned his head shortly. "I keep a stash in the caboose, where it stays cool, unlike some others."

Seth put his chin in the palm of his hand, his expression showing a bit of annoyance. "That never seems to get old." He growled.

Jane stood and padded Seth's shoulder. "You have to admit you were quite the drinker when we first met."

"I had issues."

"Join the club." Taylor chuckled. "It would seem Basil attracts our kind of people. Compared to other Inquisitors and their Acolytes, we almost seem like a madhouse."

Brennan rejoined them at the table with another bottle in his hand. "Anyone else?" They all gave him there glasses, which he filled before they held them up for a toast.

"To another suicide mission again." Seth announced.

Taylor gave a wry smile. "I thought it's been redubbed to "glorious"."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night." At the sound of clinking glasses, the clock struck 02:00am.

* * *

solamen miseris socios habuisse malorum

It is a comfort for an unfortunate to have companions in his misfortune


	3. Chapter 3

Seth had the scarf tightly wrapped around his mouth and nose, still the stench disgusted him. Down here the air was poisonous, not to mention the garbage and stench of rotting bodies. Surprisingly he didn't see any, but there was blood here and there on the streets or at the concrete looking walls. He'd seen battlefield more comfortable than this place. The Underhive was in constant twilight, the sun's light didn't reach down here, smog created clouds above their heads, fog at times gathered around their feets; wherever the light was coming from, it must have had an artificial source. The people here mirrored the conditions, with shattered clothes in grey and brown, dirty, emaciated and surprisingly young. It would seem no one got old in the Underhive, and several people were missing a limb, sometimes just fingers or an eye. Of course, nobody could afford bionics, so Seth saw plenty badly healed stumps and scars. All in all, he felt highly unnerved and was glad for Brennan walking behind him and Jane like a bodyguard. Everyone here posed a possible threat, so the former Storm-Trooper often found his fingers tracing one of his guns. In a place controlled by gangs it was suicidal to go unarmed. It times like this, he missed the battlefield with a definitive enemy.

All three of them wore bodygloves underneath casual clothing in all variations the colors brown and grey had to offer. Within those layers of cloth they all had hidden as many weapons and ammunition as they'd been able to carry, along with a few explosives.

"Hive-world; why don't we ever go anywhere nice?" Seth asked grumpily after a while.

Jane frowned at his remark, though beneath the mask she wore it remained unseen. "You didn't like Vindobona, not Victoria Primus; what kind of world do you like?"

"Vindobona was a world made entirely out of ice; you can't tell me you've enjoyed it. Besides, I liked my home world, Cambria." Cambria was a green, almost idyllic Agra-World, lucky enough to have been spared war in the past three-thousand years. Seth had left it when he had joined the Imperial Guard as a boy and never returned. Supposedly that was his own fault, he acknowledged. "Let's just hope Basil send us the right way."

* * *

Hours earlier Nicomedo had withdrawn to his chambers, where he sat down cross-legged, unbothered by the cold floor. He shut out the sounds of the vessel around him and concentrated, his mind reaching out for the spire, for those living there. Within a short time he lost the feeling for his own body, but expanded his mind, reaching inside Obsaepio with focus on the Underhive, where the brood would have flourished. Despite not having any physical contact, he could sense what was down there, smell the poisonous air, feel the rust and taste the foulness; it was contaminating, still he reached out for the minds, some easier to invade than others.

A woman in her twenties crouched down in a shed. He coughed up blood, the red drops spreading over the feminine hand, slowly dying from a hemorrhagic fever, with a few days left at most. She knew nothing about any xeno life-forms, and so left her in peace.

Then he was a low-life thief, hiding in the shadows of an abandoned house, listening intensely to footsteps outside. A gang was looking for him, they wanted the tech he owned them, at least the money it was worth, and he had neither. He gripped the small pistol in his hand tighter, his palms turning white. Aliens were the least of his worries.

Nicomedo continued like this, moving from mind to mind, seeing and feeling moments of their lives. They were all so young, so clueless about the world they lived in, their horizon not expanding over the mists of the Underhive, forever trapped there. He felt pity and resentment at the same time; the Inquisitor disliked ignorance, though keeping people in nescience about his works was mandatory. The common knowledge about xenos or the dangers of the warp was petty for good reason. For once, many people would probably not be able to cope, realizing the numerous enemies, simply snap at the transpired horrors; even experienced Acolytes fought with what they witnessed at times, some snapping completely. On the other hand, learning about those dangerous powers could lead to heresy for some individuals, a risk the Inquisition would not take.

In a war-torn galaxy like this, ignorance was truly bliss for the common citizens, yet Nicomedo was glad for his knowledge; it enabled him to fight the enemies of the Emperor, and one thing he hated as much or even more than ignorance was dormancy. Being reduced to inaction, to have despite better knowledge no choice than to watch and wait for the outcome of events was torturous. Despite these thoughts in the back of his head, Nicomedo was focused on Underhive; he had to find the nest, and finally take action against the enemy.

Next he was a boy, remembering something he had seen the previous day. There had been a dead body, not an unusual sight even to the eight year old, but there had been a beast, six limbed, with claws like crude daggers, dragging the corpse into the tunnels. The boy knew the place, it had lain dormant for longer than he was alive, leading beneath the Underhive. He had heard about many disappearing close to these tunnels, they all had thought it to be a gang or mutants. That beast had been the most terrifying mutant the boy had ever seen, so he'd vowed never to go back there. Good for him he most likely didn't need to, Nicomedo however now knew where to send his team.

* * *

Seth knew they were being followed, a hand ready at one of his holsters. Several men were following them over the past fifteen minutes, armed as far as he could tell and some even equipped with some Flak Armor. Further down the road, the main street split into two directions. Seth exchanged looks with Jane, who nodded towards a street to their left, only a few feet ahead of them and took her own weapon, a Laspistol. Brennan tapped on Seth's shoulder, directing his attention to a shade coming from the street to their right. By his estimation, they'd be facing at least a dozen; luckily most civilians had disappeared by now, since they had been going further down the hive, closer to the tunnel and sewer system.

"Brennan, would you introduce us?" The Storm Trooper asked, drawing his Hellpistol, an old friend from his time with the Guard.

A grenade hit the ground, and grey smoke filled the narrow streets. Several las-shots passed over their heads, as the Acolytes went for cover, accompanied by a few screams of fleeing civilians, who ran for the alleys along the streets. While Brennan had thrown the grenade, Jane had killed a gang member behind them, before taking cover behind a turn ahead to avoid enemy fire.

Seth was taking care of the two coming from the street to his right, the first shot ripping apart a throat, as the other one used a large chunk of debris as cover. With a short look over his shoulder, Seth saw, through his night sight that he had kept underneath his hood up to this point, how Brennan killed a young boy, who had been foolish enough to attack the Bounty Hunter with a rusty knife. Brennan had taken position across the street from Jane, both keeping the rest of the gang at bay.

He turned back and approached the rock, carefully watching for any sign of the other men. A shot from behind however, though it was way over his head, got his attention long enough for his enemy to jump out and charge. Seth aim was off, but still hit the right shoulder, causing his attacker to lose his grip on the gun, and stumble but he was already too close.

A powerful kick sent Seth flying backwards through a door behind him, which had only been leaning against the doorframe. It broke under his weight, smashed into splinters and dust. Coughing up dusk, Seth shot at his enemy coming after him through the doorway, one bullet going in the abdomen, the other in the chest, before the gang member could make use of the knife he'd just drawn out of his boot. A scream to his right caught Seth's attention, he turned quickly around, by kicking the floor with his feet, only to find his Hellpistol aiming at a woman, who was guarding a little girl with her arms, both cowering in the corner. He relaxed and got back on his feet. "Sorry ma'am." Seth apologized to the still completely shocked woman. She reached for something hidden beneath the mat. Lucky for him, her fear affected her aim, and two las-shots dug into the wall only a few centimeters beside his head.

Seth practically jumped over the body out the door again, taking a few shots at another gang member, at the time keeping Jane in cover. Though Seth's target didn't die, the medicae could fire back, almost decapitating a man with an archaic gas-mask for a face, launching bits of his brain, rubber and plastic to all sides. Brennan had picked up another corpse, using it as a shield. The young boy was already quite tattered, while the bounty hunter just had a few scratches, calmly clearing the road from where the three Acolytes originally had come from. Seth quickly counted: of the initial fifteen gang members, only six were still alive. One was hiding behind the corner of an alley, though his shank was showing, which Jane shot, making the man stubble into the streets where she finished him off.

"Not your day?" The medicae asked, referring to Seth's lacking performance.

"I had better. Maybe I should've taken a mask as well." He wasn't sure if it really was the air he'd been breathing the past two hours, but he would need to improve quickly. He calmed his breathing and aimed; three more fell dead to the ground, all of them with a new hole in their heads. "There we go." Seth began to feel dizzy, and supported himself on the nearby wall.

Jane checked the streets, realizing that Brennan could take care of the rest, before she removed her mask, and pressed it on her partners face. "Try to breathe calmly." She advised. This happened quite often when visiting a new planet; the air pressure, and composition varied from world to world, and of course it differed from the condition in a starship. They all would need time to get used to it again, time they probably didn't have. The bounty hunter, finished off the last one, and rejoined them, letting the boy's body he'd used as a shield hit the ground.

"Had enough already? The fun is just beginning."

Seth smiled tiredly underneath the mask. "Don't worry, nothing a bit of oxygen couldn't cure."

* * *

While the three Acolytes were scouting in the Underhive, Apothecary Seneca was preparing the Genestealer body he had received. The dark red skin and bluish skeletal-features told him the brood came from a Behemoth splinter-fleet, like Hive Fleet Gorgen, which had been defeated not too long ago by combined forces of Tau and the Imperial Guard.

Seneca looked up from the dissection table, to look at Taylor, who was watching with keen interest. The Untouchable seemed undisturbed by the open body, or the strong smell, though it probably wasn't as bad for Taylor, since he was lacking the improved senses of an Astartes.

"Do you fear the alien, Mr. Taylor?" The Apothecary asked him.

The Acolyte directed his eyes up to Seneca, and shrugged. "As a blank it's said I lack a soul, and am not even capable of feeling fear...though I can say that I'm not looking forward to going down there and face these things in combat; especially in confined space." He regarded the Apothecary for a moment. "I've heard that Space Marines don't know fear, or is that just an exaggeration?"

"Yes and no." Seneca admitted. "People develop most fears as a result of learning, regardless of whether they themselves have experienced trauma, or if they have observed the fear in others. Space Marines are recruited and conditioned from a young age; you could almost say we never develop fears in the first place, or at the very least our response to a usually fear inducing stimulus is so minor, to the point of being imperceptible."

"Huh; I once heard someone saying, Space Marines get the brain part responsible for fear removed."

To Taylors surprise Seneca laughed, even if it was short lived. "As far as I'm concerned, the part of the brain mainly being involved is the amygdale, very close to the Brain's center; it couldn't be removed without damaging other parts. Besides, it has several other functions, rendering its removal rather foolish."

At first Taylor didn't reply, and it was silent in the medical bay, except for the humming sound of the ship as well as an occasional cracking of Tyranid bones. "This may sound strange, but I sometimes would like to fear, to be afraid." He began quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Seneca raised an eyebrow at this unusual wish. He himself had never found the lack of fear to be a disadvantage, and he was curious why someone else would. "Why, Mr. Taylor?"

"Oh, I don't mean fear in the sense of panicking, just a little fear…to make me more cautious. As long as I was on my own, I could be reckless, get myself in all kinds of trouble, and it was only affecting me." He sighed, as he continued there was something grave in his voice. "It's different as part of a team; I might be able to keep a cool had in any kind of situation, but at the same time I don't always realize a dangerous situation. It just seems like a matter of time until I get one of them killed."

"You can't count on fear to solve this problem. Take advantage of your calmness, and try to be rational, reconsider rash actions whenever you can. We Space Marines may know no fear, but we still possess caution." The Apothecary paused, with a thoughtful expression. "At least those with more experience."

Taylor gave him a grim smile. "I don't think I live long enough gain that much experience."

"But you have a rational mind; make use of it, and get accustomed with the idea of losing those at your side. All wars demand losses, no matter your own efforts, the difference we make, is whether it will be few or many."

* * *

longum iter est per praecepta,breve et efficax per example

Long is the way through lecturing, short and effective through examples


	4. Chapter 4

Seth hadn't believed the air could be getting any worse, but down in the tunnels it was warmer and muggy to boot, almost like a cave. Some tunnels were large enough for a Space Marine, others a child might have been able to crawl through, but they all made of grey rusting metal. Without night sight it would have been impossible for them to see anything in the darkness, and there was the constant sound of water dripping as well as their own echoing footsteps. Jane had taken the lead, eventually stopping at a crossing of eight pipes. She nodded to Brennan, who reached for a black box-like apparatus from his backpack, placing it on the crossing's center, where Jane linked it with a small hand-sized monitor. The monitor was to serve as a map, while the scanner would remained at the crossing to frequently update the display. On command it began working, humming peacefully, while Seth and Brennan took position at opposite sides of the crossing. The former Guardsman prayed no Genestealers became aware of their presence; he didn't believe they could survive an attack, and his shoulder moved as the feeling of unease overcame him.

After a few minutes, which seemed like hours, the humming stopped. Seth didn't turn around but waited. He heard her going to Brennan shortly before she approached him. Jane was holding the monitor, which showed them a green glowing holographic depiction of the pipe-system of the Underhive. It also showed heat signatures, most notably those of life forms. Another thing he noticed was it being too damn bright. Why didn't they just wave a "Here are the tasty humans, yum, yum!" sign in the air. The medicae pointed at a handful of tunnels, all leading to a large chamber, where most heat signatures had been detected. The Brood's nest; and they were almost directly above it. His eyes wandered over the 3D model, to his relieve finding no life forms near them. If the synapse link between the Tyranids was as sophisticated as Nicomedo claimed, only one would have to discover their activities to send the entire brood their way. Jane pointed at certain pipes, and Seth nodded in recognition.

…

Jane felt almost claustrophobic in those tunnels, and the warm rubber of her breathing mask squeezed against her face was only making things worse. It was incredible warm in general, the several layers of clothing becoming a burden more than anything else. And then there was her own fear: for quite a few decades now Jane served the Inquisitor, but even with her experience gained over the years this environment was making her feel like a rookie. There was no cover, just a straight path and many ways to be caught off-guard by inlet pipes. She saw from the corner of her eye how Seth was clutching his rifle, only Brennan seemed calmed, or at least there was nothing indicating strain in is posture or demeanor.

Jane smiled: it was always good to have Brennan along. The old Bounty Hunter was the longest standing member of the Acolytes, experienced and calm in battle. During her first missions, he had kept close to the Medicae, kept her save and had taught her most she knew about combat. In this environment he seemed like a life-insurance with a semi-automatic weapon.

They went deeper into the tunnel system, until the small monitor fixated on her arm vibrated softly. Her head turned around when Brennan put a supportive hand on her shoulder, nodding encouragingly when their eyes met. The first explosive charge was set right above a tunnel leading to the main chamber: the idea was to have several detonate on time until only two tunnels remained for the Kill-Team to enter and purge the Xenos, diminishing the risk of being flank, funneling the masses into a confined space where they couldn't use numbers to their full advantage. Nicomedo had suspected the brood to be occupying one or more underground cavities, and ordered any structure unsuited or compromising the purge prepped for destruction.

During the next hour or so, the three continued in this manner, moving as quietly as their equipment allowed them to be, stopping at every unrelated sound, and there were plenty. It was very clear they weren't alone, something like footsteps occasionally echoed from other parts of the sewer system. More concerning was whatever sounded like someone scratching several knives over the rusty metal; the picture of long claws came to Jane's mind. However, they were never attacked. Maybe, Jane figured, no one had ever challenged the Brood down here and they had grown more careless, believing the Acolytes to be some stray mutants or gang members, if the Xeno's heard them sneaking through their territory. Jane suppressed the thought of terming it "hunting ground". Finally only one charge remained.

Brennan tapped her on the shoulder. "It's just around the corner. Let me set it, while you two get the scanner back. I'll meet you at the exit." He whispered.

"You're sure?" Splitting up sounded like a bad idea.

"A few minutes less we're going to spend down here." The next thing he said was in a strangely merrily voice, though that could have been caused by the distortion from the mask. "If anything happens, they'll go after me and not you."

"And I thought I was the one lacking oxygen in my brain." Seth mentioned, his breathing heavy and with drops of sweat running down his face.

Brennan stretched his empty hand towards Jane, who sighed but gave him the last charge. "Don't get lost. Once it is set follow this tunnel until the second to the right, up the ladder and at the top left, third right, first left and finally up the slope we came down."

He tapped on the vox communicator in his ear. "I'll just ask for directions should I forget."

The other two nodded and left the Bounty Hunter; thanks to lighter equipment and weight in general, they could move faster without Brennan, almost jogging down the tunnels, careful not to step into the puddles of water to make treacherous splashing noises. After the third turn, close the scanner, Jane stopped abruptly, hand lifted and eyes fixed on the monitor. "Emperor, no." She gasped with Seth looking over her shoulder. The display had just updated again, and now heat signatures gathered around Brennan's presumed location.

"We have to go back!" The Storm Trouper had given up on whispering and was about to turn around, as Jane quickly grabbed his arm. "What?!"

She ignored him and contacted Brennan. "Brennan, do you read me?"

The vox crackled with the Acolytes voice. "I read you, something's wrong?"

"I have multiple signals heading towards you…"

"Of course, this was too damn easy. Stick to the plan, I'm halfway up the ladder, if I'll run I might get to the slope in about ten minutes…Aaargh!"

"Lucien!"

"That's it, let's go!"

"No." She could hardly believe what she said, what she was going to say."They're too many, look at the screen! If we go everyone dies, and all was for not!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Seth gaped at her in disbelieve and started running. She sprinted after him and rammed him, bringing him to a fall, partly thanks to his current condition.

"We won't make it in time, and you can hardly fight. We must complete our mission; he told us to stick to the plan."

"When he wasn't under attack!" He snapped, in his adrenaline rush managing to throw her off his back.

"Do you honestly think you could take them?" Jane held up the screen, and saw whatever confidence had been in his expression fade. There were over a dozen now heading for the ladder. "We have no choice, but to withdraw while we still can."

She earned no reply as he got back on his feet and pulled her up. "Then we've got to run."

* * *

Neither Seth nor Jane had spoken the entire way from the Underhive to the Adrastos' briefing room. They were exhausted, sweating and still shaken from what had happened. Jane's mask was removed, and Seth could see from the corner of his eyes her face, derived from any color, yet she managed to straighten herself up before they entered the assembly. Once again everyone, Acolytes and Marines, had gathered, waiting for their report. Nicomedo didn't address Brennan's absence, as a Psyker he maybe knew about it already, Taylor however looked questioning from Jane to Seth, as if waiting for an answer.

"Report you findings, Acolytes." Nicomedo spoke.

Jane stepped forward to upload the map to the strategium table, and recited what they'd learned on their mission, as all eyes studied the hologram, which was slowly turning over the table. Seth paid little heed to her words, instead studied the faces of his fellow Acolytes and the Inquisitor. Interrogator Mandrake was listening intrigued to the report, taking extensive notes on a data slate; it was questionable if he had even noticed their missing associate. Nicomedo was equally focused on the Medicae's words, his face stern and the healthy eye narrowed as he regarded the tunnels more closely. Seth continued and found himself exchanging looks with Taylor. He was the only one who seemed concerned, with his mouth forming silently Brennan's name. With Seth's gaze turned to the ground and his fist clenched the Untouchable understood, and when he looked up again the Storm Trouper could see Taylor grit his teeth, a shaken expression on his face.

Meanwhile Jane had finished and stepped back from the strategium table, taking her place behind the Inquisitor, next to Seth. Apothecary Seneca now spoke. "We will split into two teams; the first team led by Inquisitor Nicomedo will consist of brother Tullius, Maccius, Quintus and Nadim. Brother Cornelius, Cyrus and Acolyte Taylor will serve in the second under my command. Inquisitor."

Nicomedo lifted a hand. "Before we discuss our strategy I'd like to talk with my Acolytes Pravin and Nelson first." He looked over to them, his face unreadable. "This will only take a moment, my Lords."

Seneca nodded and with a gesture Nicomedo instructed the two to leave the briefing room. The three left into the empty corridor; already Seth could hear the Space Marines reason about the coming battle, until the heavy metal door closed behind them. Nicomedo turned to his Acolytes, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Now; what has happened to Brennan?"

Jane hadn't mentioned it during her report, and now looked like she was lost for words, so Seth took over. "He was ambushed by Genestealers after we split up: we went to retrieve the scanner, while he set the last charge."

Nicomedo nodded. "Unfortunate, but we can now proceed with our mission, thanks to your data."

The Storm Trouper couldn't believe the lack of reaction he got from the Inquisitor "Unfortunate? That's all you can say! We shouldn't have left him behind." Seth snapped; the anger and frustration had boiled up in him long enough, his fists were still clenched and his face turned red.

"You had no choice: to search for him could have, would have compromised the entire mission. It was our priority to find the nest and prepare our attack. It is bad enough the Genestealers found him; now they might learn about our activities."

"That's what you're worried about?! One of your Acolytes has been taken by Xenos!"

"Lucien Brennan is dead, Seth!"

No reply, not even a gesture, just…silence. Seth stood there, staring at Nicomedo, Jane had her eyes closed, her face directed away from them. The Inquisitor could see the shock in his Acolyte's eyes, as if only now he'd completely realized that his comrade had died. "You were a Storm Trouper, you were in the Guard; you saw thousands of your fellow soldiers die in service of the Emperor. Pull yourself together: this is no different." Nicomedo objurgated him, his voice calm but also brimming with anger; Seth could feel the temperature dropping, the words fed into his mind. It was rare the Inquisitor enforced his words with his psychic abilities. "You will never talk to me in such a manner again, Acolyte." He turned to Jane. "Pravin: return to the medical bay, and prepare for treatment. Apothecary Seneca has provided samples of Tyranid poison and started working on the antidote; you'll assist him once he returns from the meeting." She nodded quietly. "You're both dismissed."

...

Seth marched through the Adrastos' corridors, fuming with anger. It wasn't simply Brennan's death that brought him into turmoil, but the lack of reaction he got from the others. Both Jane and Taylor hadn't said a word, though at least it had seemed like they were in mourning; if they'd only opened their damn mouths. Mandrake had barely made a somber expression, but he hadn't expected much from the Interrogator, who rather spent his days with books in his obsession with information, than spending some quality time with those who kept saving his sorry ass over and over again in battle. Though Nicomedo should have shown some sort of concern that his longest standing member had been killed; and yet he'd remain stern and astonishingly cool. When other Acolytes had met their end the Inquisitor had mourned with them, not aloud maybe, but one could tell just by the way he would carry himself. In those cases Nicomedo tended to spend more time with his Acolytes. Seth even remembered him sitting down with Jane when Vega had died, the first time the Medicae had lost someone in combat.

"Seth, wait!" His thoughts were interrupted by said Medicae's voice.

"Shouldn't you be helping his Lordship?" Seth growled at her.

She seemed to be taken aback by his hostility, giving that she stopped in her tracks and kept silent for a moment. "I want to talk about today, what happened to Brennan…" Jane began, but her words had hit a nerve and he spun around.

"You! You didn't even want to try to help him! We left him because of you!"

Suddenly she punched him right in his face, actually making him stumble backwards against the wall. Stunned Seth stared at her, only now seeing the water in her eyes. "You think I don't care?" Jane snapped; her voice even quivered as she spoke. "He was my friend, our friend! Do you have any idea how much I hate it to have left him behind!" Seth didn't answer, merely holding a hand next to his chin where she'd hit him. When she continued her voice had calmed down somewhat. "He's always been with this team, with us in the field like a bodyguard, who knows how often we got out of a tough situation because of him; always calm, always in control…"

"You couldn't help but feel encouraged." He muttered in conclusion.

"I didn't want to leave him behind, but what choice did we have? What could we have done to save him, Seth?"

There was nothing to be said, or at least Seth didn't know what to say. They kept scowling at one another, his thoughts still in turmoil. He wasn't a stranger to the death of comrades; he'd seen thousands of fellow Guardsmen lay down their lives for the Emperor. The Inquisitor however had been wrong on one account, because this was different: Nicomedo's Acolytes had always been a small group, how could they've not become close-knit? This weren't just people whose faces you'd seen once or twice before they died were relocated; they had fought and lived together for decades. It was more like a family, with a lot of issues certainly, but Seth couldn't think of a better word for it. And now the eldest and most steady part was gone.

* * *

About two after her confrontation with Seth, and a lecture on Tyranid inflicted injuries and poisoning by the Apothecary, Jane had retreated back to her room, freshly showered with wet hair clinging to her skin. The stench from the Underhive however had proven very persistent. She sat down on her bed, in no hurry to get dressed or do anything for that matter; all she wanted was to sit there and ponder over the recent event in peace. Minutes passed without her moving a muscle and an empty gaze in her eyes, as she drifted into her thoughts.

A while later Jane could hear the door open, yet the Medicae didn't lift her head to see who was coming. "You're alright?" It was Taylor's voice, quiet and worried.

"…No." She could only whisper, split between wanted him to get out or having him stay.

He waited patiently, before he slowly approached and sat down next to her on the bed. There was no arm laid around her shoulders for comfort, not a word he said; probably he didn't know what to say in this moment. "He blamed me." Jane began, a slight tremble in her voice. "Said it was my fault we left Brennan to die."

"Idiot." The Untouchable growled, adding concerned. "You believe him?"

"I've been wondering the same thing." Jane admitted, eventually lifting her head to look at him.

"You know how short-tempered he can be; he likes to brood and keeps it all to himself until he boils over. Understandably enough he's at that point now, so all we can do is wait for it to blow over. Do me a favor and don't put too much weight in what he says right now, he'll be sorry for it soon enough."

His words were followed by silence. Jane knew he was right, but she couldn't help it: she felt guilty for what had happened, whether it was rational or not. Maybe they should have stopped Brennan, stayed together, yet then they all would be dead now. She had thought about it over and over again without finding a satisfying solution. Taylor apparently had come to the same conclusion.

"I don't think there was anything you could have done, Jane. We all know that we eventually lay down our lives in service; it happened to Vega against the Necrons, to Eugene against Eldar…it will happen to us. For now I'm truly grateful that at the very least you two got out of there in time." During the last sentence he finally put a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a little, almost careful smile.

Still a bit unassured, she returned it. "Thank you, Taylor."

"Don't mention it." He took his hand from her shoulder, and waited a while before asking. "You want some more time for yourself, or want me to stay for a bit?"

"Some company would be nice." He nodded, yet didn't attempt to start a new conversation. As time passed the silence began feel somewhat odd, maybe it had something to do with her being only dressed in a bathrobe, which wasn't exactly lessening her discomfort. "So, what about you? Ready enter the belly of the beast? Seems I'll be sitting out this one."

He gave her a rather pitiful look. "Actually, Basil has another job for you."

* * *

quidquid agis, prudenter agas et respice finem

Whatever you do, do it prudent and mind the outcome


	5. Chapter 5

Nathan Mandrake had come to the Inquisitor's study after the meeting, now standing in front of his mentor's desk, whose eyes were studying a data slate containing Lucien Brennan's file. Different from Nicomedo's room the study was slightly bigger and essentially a library, with hundreds of books and data slates in store; the many candles were covered with glass-domes to prevent those priceless artifacts from burning. The desk was actually made of dark wood, the legs carved into the shapes of eagles, while the Inquisitor himself sat in an armchair made of the same wood, seat and back cushioned with red cloth. The Interrogator waited for his mentor to initiate the conversation, but as time passed, grew uncomfortable with the silence and needed to speak. "How are they taking it?"

Nicomedo's eyes moved up, meeting Mandrake's gaze. "Not well." He admitted. "It has created tension in the group; I hope Taylor can help it somewhat and I have decided that Jane and Seth will accompany you."

"Will it be necessary? It could be difficult to arrange on such short notice."

The Inquisitor put the slate aside. "I have already contacted Lady Nazahah, and while I don't believe the two will be vital to the mission, I should mention it is for their own sake. They have to keep working together, despite what has happened today."

Mandrake grimaced briefly, displeased by the idea; it just sounded too much like babysitting, and if they got into a fight, it would compromise the entire operation, yet Mandrake decided not state any further objection. There was only one matter he wanted to clarify. "Milord, there is one thing still bothering me." Uncertainty hung in his voice, but after a brief pause the Interrogator continued. "The Brood doesn't consist of only a few dozen pureblood Genestealers, so even with the assistance of Inquisitorial Storm Troopers we are greatly outnumbered."

"I don't hear a question."

"Shouldn't we now contact the Lord Governor and demand assistance; Imperial Guard, PDF…"

"No." Nicomedo answered decisively. "Genestealers are infiltrators; we don't know how many of the Brood are among his staff or even the nobility. If he learns about us we could have a war on our hands and the Patriarch escapes, continuing his work until the Hive Fleet arrives. If Brennan was lucky, the Genestealers killed him quickly and they remain ignorant about our presence." The Inquisitor ran a hand over his chin. "No, right now the Brood feels relatively save, their guard will be low and we won't have to face the entire force…if we are quick." He added.

Basil stood taking his trusted Bolt Pistol. "You should prepare yourself; it could be considered rude to be late."

* * *

Taylor rushed through the corridors, already in full gear: a black Carapace Armor with the Inquisitorial sigil on his chest and a breathing mask around his neck, seesawing with every step. The only thing he still needed was his weapon, maybe some other gear like grenades. They would deploy in 30min, but first he needed to speak with Seth, not only because Basil had ask him to. Finally Taylor reached his friends door; the smell of booze was in the air. The Untouchable rolled his eyes and groaned silently. It had taken them long enough to make Seth relatively sober, with exception to those two or three glasses before each mission, though it seemed almost too reasonable that he would pick it up again now. Taylor opened the door and knocked against the wall to his right. "Seth, we need to talk." His voice was calm as he gazed at his friend, who sat on his bed, a bodyglove and high-collard coat next to him. Right now Seth was dressed only in pants, while a towel was wrapped around his neck; he was staring at a bottle cap that he was playing with between two fingers.

"I had hidden that bottle when you guys made me stop drinking after our first mission together; thought this just might be the occasion to open her up." Seth flung the cap into the bin two meters away from him, where by the sound of it, it hit glass. "Then again, Brennan was the most persistent of the three of you: it just would have been too much of a mockery."

"It's strange to think that he's dead; we don't know this team without him." Taylor closed the door behind him and sat down on the chair. "But we knew something like this would happen."

"I thought there was still something we could have done." He still wasn't looking up.

Taylor pitied that he hadn't had the time for a long talk, feeling rushed he went for a direct approach. "You really think it was Jane's fault?" Seth eyes darted up to meet Taylor, with a mixture of annoyance and anger. "I'm sure I could put it more sensitively, but you've been acting like a complete ass."

"Is this your idea of a pep talk?" Seth growled. "Look, I know wasn't out of ill will, but it was cowardly."

"Yes, maybe in that moment it was out of a selfish desire of self-preservation, yet ultimately it was the right thing to do." There was a moment of silence before he continued. "It is downright a romantic thought to go down in some heroic battle against the enemies of the Imperium, maybe a shame that Brennan wasn't given that opportunity." Taylor studied his friend, and suddenly it dawned on him. Why had it taking him so long to see it? This had little to do with Brennan dying; it was leaving him behind what bothered the former Storm Trouper. Seth himself had been thought dead and pretty much abandoned before he'd stumbled upon the Inquisitor after days in the jungle, injured and without supplies. Taylor took a deep breath and tried a different approach.

* * *

It was silent in the armory, as the seven Astartes prepared themselves, candles flickering above their heads, adding their light to that of electronic sources along the wall. The air was filled with soft clicks of metal from weapons being checked and cleaned one last time, and the smell of sacred unguents used to anoint said weapons. Chapter Serfs assisted in donning the Power Armors, all repainted in black, the right shoulder plates however, showing the chapter icon, remained in their original colors to not anger the armor's Machine Spirit. The left shoulder plate on the other hand, along with the entire left arm of each and everyone, was electroplated in silver, the plates themselves displaying the Deathwatch icon: the Inquisitorial "I" mounted with a skull and crossed bones. Passages from devotional texts were engraved around the icon, and Cyrus could hear some of his brothers chant those lines like a prayer, as well as others.

To be Unclean

That is the Mark of the Xenos

To be Impure

That is the Mark of the Xenos

In his mind, Cyrus spoke the words like a mantra as his hands wandered over his weapon, checking every mechanism, before letting the components snap back into place. He was already wearing his Deathwatch Scout Armor and a Cameleoline Cloak over a form-fitted body glove. Purity Seals and devotional scripts were attached to his armor, earned in almost two hundred years of service in the Deathwatch. He had seen countless aliens, some as common as Orks, but also others more elusive such as Eldar and their fallen brethren. The torture chambers of the Dark Eldar had been among the most dreadful things he'd seen in his long career; even those who had been still alive, had to be killed or committed suicide after having to live through such a nightmare.

To be Abhorred

That is the Mark of the Xenos

To be Reviled

That is the Mark of the Xenos

To be Hunted

That is the Mark of the Xenos

Briefly the Blood Raven's eyes wandered over to Nadim, who was working on a Hellfire Flamer, a relatively new weapon in the Deathwatch arsenal. Potent mutagenic acids were mixed into the refined Promethium compound, making it capable of eating away bone and more importantly chitin in a matter of seconds; an ideal weapon against Tyranids, especially in the hands of Salamanders, who prefer Flamers and Meltas in general. A small talisman, the hammer sigil of his Primarch Vulkan, dangled from Nadim's weapon, a little something he had forged himself.

Cyrus looked further to Cornelius from the Crimson Fists, aside from Apothecary Seneca the only other Marine in his squad. An energy sword was fastened at his side, and in his hands he held a Maxima Pattern Multi-Melta, a larger variant of the Meltagun, carrying more fuel, firing at much longer ranges, and creating a larger blast area capable of vaporizing several square meters at a time. Cyrus would try to keep a distance from this weapon, since it generated an uncomfortable amount of heat to everyone not in Power Armor. For this battle, many Astartes seem to prefer short-range weaponry, and yet Cyrus adjusted the scope of his over two meter Ultra Pattern Mark IX Sniper Rifle.

To be Purged

That is the fate of the Xenos

To be Cleansed

For that is the fate of all Xenos

* * *

Jane once again fixed her dress as the Glider cut through the clouds among spire Sedes, the night illuminated by countless windows. Her eyes went over to Mandrake, sitting next to her in a fine black suit, its sleeves adored with golden intertwining lines and wearing very pointy shoes, which quite frankly should have to be registered under cut and thrust weapons. Across from her sat Seth who had cleaned himself up and changed into a body-glove under a long, high-collared coat. He was by far the most sober dressed among them; she herself was wearing a crimson colored dress with fine bronze chains along her waist, the upper part fashioned like a corset, forcing her into an upright position. It wasn't uncomfortably tight, she was a slender woman after all, however it was restricting her mobility. A gloved hand checked her pined up hair and a heavy bronze necklace around her neck. It wasn't her first under-cover mission, but if they had to fight Jane was ill-suited.

Finally the Glider descended, attracting her attention to the spire once more. They were still far from the top, at a level where the air was still breathable. There was a large plaza with artificial lawn among its borders, in its center an at least five meter high fountain and white marble stairs leading to an archway, with a dark blue carpet leading into the spire. A servant in a sober grey suit and white gloves approached the glider to open the door, bowing as he so. Mandrake grabbed his stick with the golden eagle-head on top and left the glider, his eyes examining every detail of the building in front of him. Jane was about to follow him, when Seth placed a hand on her shoulder.

"For what it's worth…I'm sorry." He whispered his voice sincere, as were his look. Jane gazed at him astonished, but slowly smiled and nodded acceptingly. He smiled for less than a second, before removing his hand and followed her out. Several guards lined the way up to the archway; they wore floor length, dark blue robes, and face concealing helmets with large yellow and white crests. In their left hands they held oval shields, adored with the Governor's coat of arms. It was a winged lion, holding a sword in his paws, the tip in a skull to the lion's feet. The guards were armed with a halberd, whatever other weaponry they were equipped with was hidden by their robes.

"A shame it is night. This altitude provides the only living space offering real daylight." Mandrake mentioned as Jane took his arm. They would pose as a couple, while Seth played the part of their bodyguard; he'd been more thoroughly checked by security than the other two before they'd been allowed to take the glider.

"Do you miss the daylight on the Adrastos too?" She asked as the ascended the stairs.

"Sometimes." He confessed. "The lack of sunlight can lead to diseases and anemia."

"I know." Her reply came rather cool, slightly annoyed by his trivia. He started early this evening. "I'm a Medicae after all, and am responsible for our supplements."

"Certainly." They walked through the enormous portal, into the white marbled entrance hall. Spiral staircases with golden balustrades lead up into the tower, but they would be taking the elevator, its lined with pompous, golden framed mirrors and blue carpet. The elevator brought them several stories higher, where the Governor was having his party, far above the clouds of Victoria Primus. They exited into a long corridor, windows to both sides. The view was breathtaking.

From the ocean of clouds towered five other spires into the sky, all glowing with bright lights. Once the eyes adjusted one could see that the ceiling itself was illuminated by the planet below, and in the distance lightning crackled in bright blue. The horizon was reddish, shifting into the black of space, where three small moons reflected the sunlight, one in grey, another in red, the last in blue. Jane could have even counted the craters on their surface.

At the far side of the corridor, two servants opened another golden portal, which led them into a great all, where the floor was made of white marble, and a detailed mosaic covering the center was currently hidden beneath hundreds of feet. The walls were made of the same material, except for tall stained glass windows to the left and right, presenting flourish motives in all possible bright shining colors the human eye could distinguish. White marble pillars supported the ceiling, knot design carved into the stone, broken up from time to time by stylized animal heads, most of which Jane didn't recognize. Her eyes wandered over the assembled masses; according to Mandrake about 300 nobles attended this party along with their personal guards, not to mention the Lord Governor's servants and waiters. The air was filled with chatter and music, some sort of string instrument was very prominent at the time, as the three descended the staircase leading from the portal.

It didn't take long until a tall and slender woman approached them, her black dress simple, a long white scarf that went down to her ankles wrapped loosely around her neck, the high-heeled boots adored with a skull covering each knee, and three white feathers tucked into her pined up hair whipped up and down with each step. There was an air of command around her, which everybody seemed to feel, as they all made room for her without even turning their attention towards the woman. A smile manifested on her lips, stiff as if rehearsed.

"Welcome Lord Mandrake, Lady Pravin." She bowed slightly out of etiquette and politeness. "My name is Lady Nazahah, I'm a sister of the Order Famulous and adviser and chamberlain of the Lord Governor Elias Lazzaro. Lord Nicomedo has contacted me and explained his intentions." There was a certain emphasis on the last word.

"You introduced us to this party." Seth concluded.

She regarded him with a cool glare. "Yes, Mr. Nelson, but I advise you not to speak in these circles. A bodyguard should not interfere in his employer's conversation, or speak at all without permission or good reason." His eyes shortly narrowed, but Seth remained silent and Lady Nazahah turned her attention back to the other two Acolytes. "I have made the necessary arrangements; if you would follow me, please."

* * *

Even the enhanced senses of an Astartes were not enough to see in the darkness of the Underhive's tunnel system, and most of the tunnels were barely big enough for the enhanced warriors. Each of the two Space Marine squads were assisted by ten Inquisitorial Storm Troopers, men selected from families with a record of unwavering faith in the Emperor and prior duty to the Inquisition, dressed in red uniforms, black hoods and Carapace Armor. Like the Inquisitor and the Untouchable they all wore Respirators, breathing masks that covered the entire face, about all of them were wielding Hotshot Lasguns, also known as Hellguns. Cyrus looked at the Untouchable, who had picked a shotgun for the occasion, and wondered how effective his natural abilities would be in the coming battle. Inquisitor Nicomedo appeared to be very confident in his decision, though that didn't say much, coming from an Inquisitor; they didn't like to show any sign of weakness. Several of the Astartes still had their doubts about the Untouchable, except maybe Seneca and Nadim, probably because most of them had neither seen the effects of a Blank nor had been fighting Tyranids before.

Up to this point they hadn't encounter their enemy, only distant noises echoed through the sewers, indicating their presence. It was surprising, considering that six of the Space Marines wore heavy Power Armor, and their steps were not only hearable but sent vibrations through the metal under their feet. As they went deeper, human skeletons littered some tunnels, most of them torn apart and scattered along the way. Cyrus could see the Untouchable's posture stiffen at the sight of a relatively fresh blood-trail. After almost half an hour Seneca stopped; they weren't far from the central chamber now. For a few minutes they waited in complete silence, some of the Storm Troopers checked their guns one more time, while the Untouchable let a finger run over a button on his metal collar, when suddenly several loud explosions shock the world around them, metal and stone audible breaking under the power of the charges. It was like an earthquake, and even though their tunnel had not been primed with explosives, the massive pipes burst at several places, dust was thrown into the air like in a miniature sandstorm, and water began to rush through the cracks. As soon as the explosion had settled, inhuman screams came from further down the tunnel. Now they had to move fast.

* * *

Qui alteri exitium parat, eum scire oportet sibi paratam pestem

Who prepares another's downfall, must know he himself is threaten by doom


	6. Chapter 6

"Inquisitor, are you unharmed?"

Nicomedo heard brother Tullius' voice as he got back on his feet. The explosion had shook the tunnel, and thrown about everyone but the four Astartes off their feet. "I am fine, but we have no time to lose." He reinforced his grip on the power sword he was wielding, and with his Bolt Pistol aiming at the tunnel exit moved forward. Screams of Genestealers, some more human than others filled the air. Sand and dust came crawling from the central chamber, which was finally in sight. According to the scans this place was large enough to house a small building, and indeed it did. The ruin of an ancient chapel was buried here, probably after the spire had once been destroyed during an Ork invasion over a thousand years ago. Parts of the cavern's ceiling had collapsed, destroying even more of the remaining structure, as well as killing several Genestealers in the process.

The cave was about three stories high, and rusty stairways connected three platforms, which stretched all along the walls. From these platforms one could get access to the tunnels, but most were blocked now, littered with rocks and debris. The Inquisitor's team found themselves on the upper level, above the chapel's entry, a giant metal portal, depicting a now unrecognizable fighting scene. The platform whined beneath their weight, though thankfully didn't collapse. Nicomedo looked around and saw the Brood: many were Hybrids, more human looking than alien, though their heads were deformed, as well as having purple veins exposed underneath their exceptionally pale skin. The Inquisitor could feel their minds; confused, ferocious, vile. It was amazing how every xeno creature shared the same emotional state. Nicomedo flinched shortly, at a psychic command. The confusion settled and the Brood's attention was relocated towards the intruders. A burning shot from a Multi Melta brought the Inquisitor's attention back from the psychic landscape. Nadim was firing on pureblood Genestealers, who simply climbed along the ceiling, using their long claws. Three burned to ash, another two managed to doge, but the Storm Troopers shot them down, one head exploded the other fell to its death, or at least out of reach. The other three Space Marines prepared for the Brood coming over the stairway and the upper platform. Tullius took position with a Heavy Bolter, while Quintus gave more precise shots with his Bolter, a Mark II Ultra Pattern made for higher accuracy during nighttime operations, one round piercing a huge whole into a Genestealer's torso.

"Those aren't Hellfire rounds, bother." The Ultramarine noted, right before clearing the stairs from a few Hybrids, trying to come up.

"Kraken Penetrator Rounds. I figured they would do well against the Tyranid's chitin."

More Genetealers were coming up the walls, and though Nadim immolated most of them another landed unharmed on the platform. Nicomedo fired his Bolt Pistol, but it was reflected by the blue chitin. The Genestealers attention turned to the Inquisitor and he barely managed to doge one claw coming from above. Another claw came from the side, but instead of blocking, the energy sword cut right through it. Now Nicomedo stood sideways to the alien and with another cut beheaded the monster, spilling its blood over his armor and face.

"We have to move, and kill the Patriarch before reinforcement shows up!" Nicomedo bellowed over the gunfire.

The platform was already littered with the dead, but they were only about two dozen and many more were on their way. A shadow was cast upon Tullius, and he was about to turn around when a shrill scream was suddenly stopped. The Ultramarine's head turned to see a Genestealer pierces through by Hawk's Talon Pattern Lightning Claws. Maccius threw his victim aside before charging at another one, who had just landed on the platform two meters away from him; the Raven Guard was the only one to exclusively carry melee weapons.

"Brother Nadim, take the lead!" Following the Inquisitor's orders, the Salamander moved past Tullis down the stairs, Nicomedo close behind him. The stairway protested and shook as the rest followed them, Maccius and Quintus at the back, cutting down a few more enemies, who tried to pursue.

Two more Genestealers appeared at the second platform, and the Multi Melta burned one of them, the second only lost a foot in its leap forward. Nadim quickly let go of his weapon with one hand, catching the Genestealer at the throat. Sharp claws scratched over the silver shoulder plate, before he broke the neck. The xeno was still moving, but Nadim tossed it aside. Nicomedo was now beside him, his energy sword pierce through a hybrid's chest. The Storm Troopers opened fire on a new group, armed with knives and old-fashioned las pistols. Bright red rounds hit the Salamander's armor only to leave black marks on his left arm. Nadim let the Storm Troopers take them; the Hybrids stood just in front of a beam on which the entire construction stood, and his Melta could destroy it with one shot. He moved down further, kicking and breaking the skull of a Hybrid coming up the stairs. There was a loud clash, and the second platform suddenly inclined: Maccius had fallen through a hole in the upper platform, a Genestealer on his torso. It was missing one arm and Maccius was in the process of breaking off the other two he had gripped with his hands, while the fourth tried to cut through the chest armor.

Quintus was also having problems. "It's getting crowed up here! Shouldn't the Untouchable be doing something about this?!"

* * *

Seneca lead his squad into the cavern, finding themselves on the second level platform at the backside of the chapel. Most of the building's sidewall had been crushed by debris from the ceiling, the bodies of Genestealers and Hybrids crushed beneath rock and metal. The surviving army was still formidable enough, though they were headed for the other side of the cavern.

"It would seem the Inquisitor has already arrived." The Apothecary noted.

"They haven't noticed us?" Cornelius wondered, watching a flash of light launched towards the ceiling.

"A Psyker like the Inquisitor must attract their attention. Cyrus, see if you can get a better position up there."

Cyrus sprinted to the staircase to their right, up the stairs, where a Hybrid didn't even get a chance to be surprised before a push crushed his skull. The section connecting the platform with the one where the Inquisitors squad had entered the cavern was destroyed, the responsible bolder now littering the floor, broken into several pieces. From this altitude Cyrus could see into the roof-lacking chapel. Many of the benches were mostly destructed, though closer at the altar, ten Hybrids in long robes sat in something like meditation or prayer. The altar itself had been replaced by a hideous throne, partly made of bones, which at this point was vacant. He couldn't find the Patriarch anywhere.

"The Patriarch isn't here."

"Not in the chapel?"

Something else caught his eyes. "Behind the throne is a trapdoor. It would seem to be the only other way out."

"I'll inform the Inquisitor." Seneca replied.

Cyrus checked his surroundings, not discovering any enemy activity that was not located inside the chapel or going after the Inquisitor's squad. It was then when the trap door opened and another xeno emerged, dressed in a long purple robe with an oval high collar. In his right hand it held a long wooden staff, a Genestealer's skull at its top, framed by two claws. It was also wearing a cuirass, which looked like it had been fashioned from bones, just like its shoulder plates. The Magus barked commands to the Hybrids gathered around the throne. One clean shot and Cyrus could take him out. He aligned his aim, watching the Magus as it moved up and down. It stopped suddenly in its tracks. Through his scope Cyrus saw the Magus was directly looking at him, eyes glowing red. He pulled the trigger, but stopped before he could fire a round. Cyrus felt the alien's mind scratching at his, clouding his view along with any other sensation. He felt himself letting go of his Sniper Rifle, and instead reaching for the Bolt Pistol. His hand was shaking as he resisted and halted over the holster.

"Do not resist." Said a voice in his head, which hadn't decided whether it wanted to be male or female. "Go on, draw your pistol."

…

Taylor followed Seneca and the other Marine down the staircase. A few stairs couldn't take the additional weight and simply broke under the weight of their Power Armor. Without any trouble the group reached the floor and headed for the side entrance of the chapel, which was actually the remnant of a window.

"They've found us." Taylor followed Seneca's line of sight and saw several Hybrids charging at them, coming from the other squad's direction; someone or something had diverted them. They all wore rugs and wielded knives and las rifles, with only a handful pureblood Genestealers in their midst. As the squad was about to open fire, their radio came to life with Nicomedo's voice. "We're getting pinned on the lowest platform, and I can feel the presence of a powerful Psyker. I suspect the Magus is somewhere here; Taylor, deactivate your limiter once you are inside the chapel. I want you in close proximity in case he tries to escape."

"Understood." With that Taylor threw a grenade into the charging Brood. The Genestealer mostly got away leaping at the chapel's walls. Seneca fired precise shots, but could only get two, while Cornelius burned another. A muffled scream behind him, made Taylor turn around. Two more Genestealers had come up from behind and managed to get between the Storm Trooper. One man was already torn apart by razor-sharp claws, his blood and guts spilled over his comrades and killer alike, the other one was biting another man's face of, breaking the mask and skull in the process. The other shot at the aliens, killing the latter one with combined fire, the other however still managed to cut through another one's gun and lash open his ribcage, killing him before it too fell.

"How did they get behind us so easily?" Cornelius snapped, killing of a Genestealer determined to bite through his left gauntlet. "Did Cyrus not see them?"

…

The Blood Raven gritted his teeth in concentration, summoning his entire willpower to resist the Magus' influence. He could taste to sweet copper flavor of blood, while the alien's mind cut into his like a dagger. Pictures, memories flashed before his closed eyes.

"You really thought we didn't know about your pitiful assault?" Giggled the voice. "How delightfully droll. Now why don't you go ahead and kill yourself; you are not a Psyker, you cannot defeat me like this."

Cyrus had tried to contact the others, but it was impossible to do anything other than resist, and even that became increasingly impossible. Once more his hand was descending. There was an animalistic hiss to his right, and he dared open an eye to see a Genestealer watching, standing only a meter away from him. It snarled, licking its blue tongue over its fangs, yet didn't engage.

"Do it; or my brother will." The voice spoke almost gleefully. Cyrus' fingers reached his Bolt Pistol, and though he stressed every muscle of his body, felt himself drawing his weapon. "Yes, yes, there you go. It is so simple." Very slowly and with a violently shaking arm, the cold muzzle settled against his own temple. "Just one pull of the trigger and all your worries disappear." Cyrus could sense the disgusting joy that thing was having, laughing somewhere in his mind. Blood began to pour out of his ears, as the last bastion of resistance began to crumble at another psychic assault.

"Do it!" And he pulled the trigger.

…

Taylor's shotgun tore a Hybrid with six limbs apart, as the remaining squad entered the chapel. The Crimson Fist burned a few others before, another Genestealer leaped at him forcing him into melee combat once more. Meanwhile Seneca was taking on another two with his Chainsword; one attacked and was stabbed, though not immediately killed, by the Narthecium. Since this tool was designed to penetrate Power Armor it had little only effort with the chitin. The Strom Troopers had taken cover behind rocks and benches, exchanging fire with Hybrids protecting the Magus. Strangely enough their leader didn't seem to pay much attention to the fighting. The closer Taylor got to him the colder it got, and the Untouchable could see ice crystals from on the throne. While he was immune to psychic attacks, Taylor could still be affected by these environmental effects. He had seen it once before when Nicomedo had battled a rogue Psyker.

"That's enough of you." The Untouchable announced and deactivated the limiter.

* * *

Nicomedo watched as another Storm Trooper was slaughter by their enemy's las fire. Another of his men already lay at his feet, perforated by several las shots, the crimson light still flying around him. He and his four remaining Storm Troopers had taken cover behind the remains of a statue, after the squad had finally reached the floor. Maccius Armor was covered with deep cuts, especially his gauntlets, his own claws dripping with Genestealer blood. The other three Astartes looked a bit less damaged, but their ammunition was going down fast.

"If this continues I estimate we can hold out for another ten minutes!" Nadim told the Inquisitor. Had set the ground in between the two forces partially on fire, keeping most their enemies at bay. Others still came from the platforms, keeping Tullius and his Heavy Bolter occupied; the stairway itself was only scrap metal at this point.

Nadim's words were grim news; they hadn't even made it into the chapel. Hopefully Seneca's squad was more successful. The Brood had hastily build two lines of barricades in order to defend the chapel, leaving the pureblood Genestealers to attack the squad. Suddenly a Genestealer collapsed not a meter away from Maccuis, who was already braced for the coming attack. It had been shot from behind.

"Bad aim?" The Raven Guard wondered aloud.

"Don't think so, look." Quintus pointed at the Hybrids defending the chapel's portal: some were holding their heads, others had collapsed altogether, and only a handful was still firing. A pair of Genestealers was tearing each other apart.

Nicomedo was relieved and took a deep breath. "Taylor has deactivated the limiter. We have to attack now before they regroup!" Two grenades flew into the Hybrids barricades, and Nadim let the fire die down. With melta, bolter and las fire taking down anything that had survived, the small squad took the barricades, while Maccius ended that Genestealer squabble. "Ignore everything not in our direct path!"

Nadim practically ran down the portal, which collapsed, and by the sound of it brought something else, living, down in return. Nicomedo could feel another powerful presence soaring up, reaching out for the Brood. His shoulder jerked forward, when a single las shot hit his armor. "Take cover!" They had barely entered, as the Brood had regained its order, resuming suppressive fire.

* * *

Seneca cut down another Genestealer, watching how the Magus held its head in obvious pain, blood running out of its nose and ears, as the Untouchable approached. Hybrids were crawling away from him, if they survived being in such close proximity. Inquisitor Nicomedo had not lied about Taylor's impact. He was disrupting the connection between the Magus and the Brood, making it easier for the Killteam to purge the aliens. Taylor was aiming his shotgun at the Magus, ready to pull the trigger, when out of nowhere a Hybrid armed with an ax attacked him. The shot missed either target, and instead the Blank used his weapon to block another wild slash going for his head. Seneca suspected that Hybrids psychic potential was minimal at best. Wasting no time, the Apothecary aimed his Bolt Pistol at the Magus. Heavily Breathing the xeno turned his attention towards him, unleashing a psychic blast wave, which threw him and Cornelius of their feet, along with Hybrids and Genestealers.

…

Smoke emerged from the muzzle of the Bolt Pistol, and the Genestealer screamed in agony. The entire right arm was completely inhibited and still, the hand clinged to the Pistol. Blood run from his temple, only a few drops before the wound was sealed. Somewhere in the distance the bullet had disappeared into the cavern. Cyrus stood there, panting, sweat running down his face. The entire time he'd wanted to remove that muzzle from his head, and the second the Magus had miraculously disappeared from his mind, Cyrus' armed was tossed forward, when no longer facing opposition: it was the equivalent of a tug-of-war between two people and one suddenly letting go. The round had only scratched him.

He turned to the Genestealer that still violently shook its head. Using his left hand, Cyrus aimed his right arm, and with it the Pistol, at the xeno. It felt like breaking his finger to pull the trigger, yet the Hellfire rounds hit their target, one through the head, two others through the chest. Grasping his right wrist, Cyrus made his hand let go of the Pistol. His muscles of his right arm felt like they were on fire, and would still barely move. Very slowly, or so it seemed, he picked up his Sniper Rifle and looked through the scope. He saw Seneca aiming at the Magus, who was bleeding from its nose and ears, before the Psyker hurled them off their feet. It had been too much for the Magus though, and while the Apothecary was getting on his feet, it started crawling on all fours towards the trap door.

"That bastard is mine." Cyrus growled to himself.

It was difficult to aim with a stiff arm, and the Magus had almost reached the trap door. It was shortly covered by the throne, and Seneca fired without hitting the xeno. A hand held on to the handle, pulling the body closer to the door. Cyrus pulled the trigger once. The oversized head exploded. The effect followed promptly, as Hybrids in close proximity died immediately, and somewhere at the chapel's front, the sound of fire decreased.

* * *

The Magus' death allowed the Killteam to kill every remaining Genestealers and Hybrids, and regroup in front of the now demolished throne. Nicomedo regarded the survivors: every Astartes had survived, with different degrees of armor condition. Quintus had removed his helmet, since a Genestealer had rendered it useless, and still the claws had reached his face, leaving three fine lines across his face. Tulluis had been hit in the flank, giving him a little trouble balancing the heavy bolter, and Taylor had received a las shot in his left leg, and suppressed the bleeding with cloth pieces. Only eight Storm Troopers were left, some of them injured, however all still able to fight.

"He said they knew about our attack?" Nicomedo asked, rubbing his chin.

Cyrus nodded. "Regardless, he had plenty of time to call upon assistance. It is only a matter of time before more arrive."

"Then we shouldn't waste time and end this." Seneca claimed, his eyes wandering over to the Inquisitor. "It's certain the Patriarch his below the chapel?"

One more time Nicomedo closed his eyes and searched for the strong psychic presence. It took him no more than two seconds. "Yes, he's there and not alone. A handful of Genestealers are with him. I will take Maccius, Nadim, Cornelius and Taylor down with me; the rest will hold this position against the coming attack. Emperor protect you."

Seneca saluted. "Suffer not the alien to live, Inquisitor."

* * *

Lady Nazahah brought the three Acolytes to a large balcony under a glass dome. She had provided them with a few weapons; both Jane and Mandrake had now two Laspistols and combat knife, while Seth was hiding a Hellpistol and gladius, borrowed from the Governors guard underneath his coat, along with three blind-grenades. He and Jane had also taken a handful of light throwing knives each. All of a sudden Jane was genuinely grateful he'd shown her how to use them.

The small group stood in the archway connecting the balcony with a dinning room, watching two men conversing at the balustrade. One of them was bald dressed in a long violet robe with silver collar, and a silver cloth was bound around his waist like a belt. In contrast to the violet his skin looked pale, other than his dark eyes. The Lord Governor himself wore a dark blue suit with wide sleeves over a white shirt. Like most of the nobility on Victoria Primus he had a white, curly wig.

"Who's the man the Lord Governor is talking to?" Mandrake asked, looking at Lady Nazahah and leaning on his cane.

"Lord Gianni Demetio." The sister explained. "The House Demetio is responsible for importing most agricultural products we require on Victoria Primus, as well as other goods from all across the sector. His House has the most influence aside from the Lord Governor's."

Jane watched the two Guards in their long robes standing behind Governor Lazzaro, and then let her gaze wander over to the three guards Lord Demetio had brought with him, dressed in the same violet as himself. Instead of face-concealing helmets, they wore hoods, and were armed with swords. It looked to the Medicae as if the Lord was challenging his superior. "His Lordship his allowed his own guards among the Governor?"

"Without him the Governor couldn't supply this planet, even a temporary shortage would lead to months long riots. Therefore Governor Lazzaro grants his family certain benefits." Jane noted with some amusement resentment in Lady Nazazhah's voice. "Does the Inquisitor suspect anyone in particular?"

"Everyone is a suspect, at this point." Mandrake admitted.

"Except for the Governor's and Lord Demetio guards no one in the upper level spire should be armed."

Jane gave her a grim smile. "About any object can be repurposed as a weapon." In her long career Jane had seen many injuries caused by common household objects; one patient for example had been stabbed with a paintbrush by a college. It was strange to feel a pleasant sense of nostalgia at that particular memory.

"Maybe they don't have to." Seth's hand went quickly to the Hellpistol, as gunshots and screams emerged from the ballroom. "Mandrake, you're coming?" Within ten seconds the two men had crossed the room and disappeared into the corridor, more gunshots driving them on.

"What a sloppy assassination attempt." Lady Nazahah noted dryly, making Jane want to roll her eyes, but instead the Acolyte turned her attention back to their Lordships, just in time to see Lord Demetio touched his temple as if he had a headache. Even his guard, who'd stood their without moving a muscle, seemed shortly ill at ease, ever since the first gunshots.

The radio in her ear beeped, just before Jane heard Mandrake fevered voice yelling into her head. "Get to the Governor!"

* * *

Sic ignis non refert, quam magnus, sed quo incidat

It doesn't matter how large a fire, but where strikes


	7. Chapter 7

The ballroom was in panic; the nobles were making for the only two exits, one leading to the elevators and staircases, the other to the corridor from which Seth and Mandrake just came. Mandrake was almost carried away by the storm and ended up seeking cover behind a pillar, until he could fight his way through. It was easier for Seth, who had little inhibition and simply pushed people in his way aside. Some nobles gave him outraged looks, but were quickly swept along before they could protest. Still, Seth soon had enough and fired into the air. The nobles ducked and screamed, now also trying to get away from the Acolyte. A bodyguard, who had kept close to his boss, drew his weapon.

"Hold your fire, Imperial Inquisition." Mandrake bellowed over the crowd, holding up a badge with the inquisitorial "I". To his relieve the bodyguard heard him and stayed his weapon. "What his going on in the ballroom?"

"Intruders under the crest of House Demetio have started a firefight with the Governor's guard." The bodyguard replied rushing past the Interrogator, keeping close to a woman in a golden dress.

Seth and Mandrake exchanged looks. "I contact Jane."

…

Jane's hand reached for the Laspistol, which didn't go unnoticed by Lady Nazahah. "Is it the Brood?"

She never got her answer from Jane, who raised her pistol, swung it up and fired. It wasn't a smart move, to fire at one of the most powerful men in the sector, but one of his guard got in the way, catching the round with his chest. The remaining four guards drew their weapons.

"Imperial Inquisition, stand down!" Jane ordered, still aiming at Lord Demetio.

"What do you think you're doing?" The sister hadn't heard, what Mandrake had hastily attempted to explain and was understandably shocked, but Jane would require her support to keep the guard from taking her down.

"Saving your Governor."

* * *

Inquisitor Nicomedo and his chosen Astartes had just entered the basement below, leaving the others to prepare a defense. Tullius took position behind the trapdoor, giving him the best view over the entire chapel interior and allowing him to use the remnants of the throne as cover, as well as quickly respond to anything coming from the basement that wasn't human. At the top stairs, Quintus took cover behind a collapsed pillar, along with two of the Storm Troopers, while Cyrus, since the stairs were mostly gone, had climbed up to a balcony, formerly reserved for nobles and other wealthy citizens.

Meanwhile, another of the Storm Troopers let his eyes wander over the dead Hybrids scattered across the floor; in the chapel alone about thirty had died, though only a handful of Genestealers. Most of them wore rugs, except for a few in long purple robes, who additionally looked far more human than their brethren. Finally his eyes rested on a small symbol, noting that it could be found on every robe including the Magus'.

He waved one of his fellow Storm Troopers over to him. "Marcus, doesn't this symbol look familiar?"

His friend regarded it for a moment. "It's a coat of arms; a white labrys on a magenta shield. Doesn't that belong to house Demetio?"

"Is it a house on Victoria Primus?" Both Storm Troopers turned around to see Apothecary Seneca, who had gotten interested into their conversation.

"Yes, Milord. They even reside in the Spire Obsaepio, directly above us."

Beneath his helmet the Astartes lifted an eyebrow. "And the Inquisitor has not investigated?"

"The House Demetio is not the only one with a presence in this Spire, Sir." Marcus reminded him, his eyes shortly glimpsing at the Narthecium, which to him held no resemblance to a medical tool at all.

The Apothecary didn't respond, only lifted his head, as if he was examining the ceiling and Marcus briefly wondered if he'd said something wrong, or in a way that was considered impolite. "Take your positions." Lord Seneca ordered. "They're almost here." And the following sounds of countless marching footsteps soon came to support his claim.

...

The basement was small, which meant the three Astartes had to crouch slightly in the hallway they found themselves in. Only Nicomedo and Taylor stood upright, though even their hair sometimes touched the ceiling and let sand rain down on them. Other than the chapel there weren't sporadic fireplaces, but like the tunnels it was swallowed by complete darkness. Taylor actually didn't mind; his night sight had proven somewhat problematic whenever Cornelius had fired his flamer. To their sides where several doors, all which Nicomedo ignored. He stopped at the last on straight ahead.

"They're waiting for us."

Taylor and the Inquisitor moved aside as much as they could, to let Nadim and Cornelius pass. They kicked open the door and fired, two streams of fire illuminating and burning everything in their path, forcing the Untouchable to close his eyes. Only after they stopped, he opened them again blinking several times with white flashes in his vision. The two Astartes moved in, their heads turning everywhere to scan their surroundings. It was another hall, much smaller than the chapel, but at least the Space Marines could stay upright. Two rows, each consisting of twenty pillars, made up a corridor, but still left space between them and the side walls. At the far side was another throne, much like the one upstairs, though to this one's side were two additional smaller versions as well. It was then, Taylor noticed that the room was apparently empty. Here the Genestealers had definitely the advantage; it was small and concealed, the pillars offered cover, allowing them to close in unseen. Up in the central chamber there had been too much open space for them, to really to play on their strengths. Cornelius shot another time, but revealed nothing.

"Taylor." The Inquisitor addressed him. "I'm afraid you will have to deactivate your inhibitor sooner than I've hoped."

"Of course…just don't hesitate to tell me when your eyeballs start bleeding." Beneath the mask, Taylor couldn't see his face, but he had a feeling Nicomedo wasn't in the mood for jokes. Nicomedo stepped back a little, as the limiter was turned off, flinching at the painful sensation. Somewhere from the hall came a low hiss.

"Third pillar, left." Cornelius said, moving slowly behind the pillar row. Maccius followed through the corridor, Nadim behind him, though his attention was kept at the other side to prevent an ambush. Both Nicomedo and Taylor kept close, constantly keeping an eye out for other Genestealers; the Untouchable counted many claw marks at pillars, walls and ceiling alike. Very slowly it seemed, they reached the third pillar, from what they had seen, nothing had moved. Suddenly Cornelius fired, a flame roared clinging to the stone, turning it black. With a scream the Genestealer detached from the ceiling. Cornelius had been too close and couldn´t lift his flamer in time, the alien landed on his chest. Maccius came to help, as the pillar exploded, rocks throwing the Raven Guard to ground. The Patriarch launched himself at the Astartes with a snarl. It was huge, probably even taller than the Space Marines and looked somewhat bloated, with six limbs and elongated head with a snout full of razor-sharp teeth. Four more Genestealers joined the attack, keeping Nadim and the Untouchable occupied. The Salamander managed to hold two of them off with several shots from his Melta. One Genestealer lost an arm in the process, but none of them got killed, since they could easily evade the flames, leaping from ceiling to wall or pillars.

Taylor meanwhile jumped behind one of those, the round from his shotguns, only scratching the Genestealer that went after him. In the same manner the alien missed him, a claw slicing his coat. Perplexed Taylor watched it slam head first into the sidewall, though glad his untouchable properties were somewhat effective. Not wasting any time, he shot again, the round blowing up the fast turning head, the body collapsing and still spilling blood from the neck for a second or two.

Taylor had lost track of the fourth Genestealer, Nadim was occupied with his two, while Maccius and Nicomedo fought the Patriarch, its chitin skeleton covered with barley bleeding cuts. It was Cornelius who was engaged by the fourth. The Crimson Fist had let go of his Flamer, instead with one hand he'd ripped off a limb; the alien retaliated by a strike to the head. Cornelius screamed from the pain, though it sounded just as much as a roar of anger. The claws dug into his chest armor, blood beginning to run over them. The Larraman Cells didn't even get a chance to close it. His right hand went for his destroyed helmet, pulled it off, before slamming it against the Genestealer. Though making his wounds even larger, he got rid of it. Cornelius reached for his Flamer, when the other Genestealer, Taylor had been looking for appeared, landed on his back. Its teeth buried into his neck. The Astartes tried to reach out, when a large part of flesh was ripped off his neck. The other alien, crippled but still alive finished its work, tearing a huge whole into the chest plate and a second later his ribcage.

It was at this point Taylor reached them and shot, killing the crippled one, while the other snarled, shaking its head and retreating somewhere into the shadows out of his view. Cornelius body fell, a hand twitching once, as he lay on the ground.

…

Everything around Nadim had been scared by the heat of his Melta, the grey stone now black and smoking. From across the room he heard Taylor's shotgun and further down the hall, Maccius was thrown back, blocking a vicious strike from the Patriarch. A scratching noise to his left got Nadim's attention and he swung his Melta around just in time to see one of the Genestealers attack him. It was in midair when he shot, the heat of his Melta melting a whole through the Tyranid's chitin. The second one landed on his back and Nadim immediately threw himself backwards against a pillar. It snarled in pain, lashing out violently, cutting further into the ceramit armour. The Salamander growled, when a claw slashed his shoulder. He reached for his enemy's head, which fangs bit deeply into his hand, before he grabbed the skull and with his enhanced strength crushed it. He pulled the dead body off his back and regarded his aching hand. The little finger was missing, with every heartbeat; more blood came rushing through the wound before it was sealed.

The Untouchable appeared next to him. "Lord Cornelius is dead." He told grimly.

"Emperor keep his soul. The Genestealers?"

"I got two, so I guess that means one still remains aside from the Patriarch."

Nadim nodded. "I will search for it; you help the Inquisitor and Brother Maccius."

…

Maccius was thrown back, leaving Nicomedo a moment alone with the Tyranids, which towered over the Inquisitor. Its hungry eyes looked at him with more intelligent than its appearance would suggest. It also was much quicker. Nicomedo barely managed to block a claw coming from his right, the impact shaking his entire body and almost shattering the bones of his arms, when another slash came down upon him. He jumped back, but not fast enough, the claws cutting through his right gauntlet, rendering the arm useless. With a yell of pure pain, the Inquisitor backed off further, holding the humming Power Sword with only his left hand now. The other arm was horribly injured and bleeding vigorously, yet thankfully still attached. Maccius got between him and the Patriarch, attempting a counter offensive. Giving this little time, Nicomedo called upon his own psychic abilities, grateful that Taylor was right now busy somewhere behind him, far enough to not hinder his efforts. The bleeding slowly stopped, the pain dulled, but the arm would remain inoperable until Jane could take care of it.

Nicomedo turned his attention back to the fight just to see Maccius being pinned down by his enemy. With all four limb immobilized, the Raven Guard tried to free himself, without success. There was no time to lose; Nicomedo dropped the sword and drew his Bolt Pistol and fired. He cursed himself for his inaccuracy, but he'd been never very good with his left hand and it cost him much concentration to keep his wounds close. It wasn't like he didn't hit, the rounds found their target, though they didn't deal the killing blow, only annoyed the Patriarch. A sharp pain ran through his head, and from the corner of an eye, the Inquisitor saw Taylor rushing past him, firing once to prevent the Tyranids from tearing Maccius apart. When the Untouchable got close enough, the Patriarch staggered, ever so slightly. Maccius took this opportunity, freed his arms and thrusted his Lightning Claws into the Patriarch's chest. It wanted to scream, but due to its pierced lung no sound came from its throat.

"To be purged; that is the fate of the Xenos!" Summoning all his strength, Maccius pulled his arms away from each other, breaking the Tyranid's ribcage apart, chitin and bones cracking loudly. The dark blood spat from the lethal injury, as the Patriarch died. It twitched and fought, Taylor shot another round into its head. Maccius threw the beast off and rose; he was a bit staggering himself and would need a new Power Armor, since his was cracked and broken so badly, Nicomedo was sure it could have made a Techmarine cry.

Somewhere at the far end, a Melta was fired and Nadim returned. "I see you have killed Patriarch. The Genestealer suddenly fell off the wall as if it had been paralyzed."

"I assume a temporary effect before their feral instincts take over. Without a leader the Brood will turn on each other until a purii takes his place." Nicomedo explained. "But it would be foolish to take on the Brood without reinforcements and without the Patriarch we no longer need to worry about sleeper-agents among our forces."

"So, we go to the Governor then?" Taylor guessed, now with his Inhibitor turned on again.

"Yes, it's time for a proper introduction."

* * *

The guards didn't seem to acknowledge her order and Jane felt increasingly uncomfortable with three firearms aimed at her. Lord Lazzaro look shocked and had taken a step away from Demetio, who raised an eyebrow at her, as if attempted murder was more of a temporary annoyance than a threat. "House Demetio has been infiltrated and is now part of the Brood."

Lady Nazahah looked at her in disbelieve. "Are you certain?"

"The shots we've heard were fired by Demetio soldiers, as Mandrake just informed me."

Lord Demetio listened to her, clearly displeased, before he turned to the so far speechless as well as stunned Governor. His eyes seemed to glow brighter for a second and Lord Lazzaro collapsed as if every bone in his body had been removed. One of the blue robed guards suddenly stood straight, walked with strangely stiff and mechanical movements over to the lifeless body and picked it up. Jane grabbed her Ladyship by the arm and pulled her into cover behind the door frame, when the remaining guards opened fire, las rounds breaking of pieces of the frame. The Medicae shot back, blindly at first, only exposing her hand and pistol to the fire. She could hear the guards move aside to evade the sporadic shots, allowing her to take a glimpse around the corner and aim. The next round destroyed a helmets visor and the face behind it, before a red light impacted just centimeters from her face at the wall and retreated again.

"That answers the question, whether the Governor's staff is infiltrated." She murmured to herself and reached for her radio. "Mandrake, I need you and Seth back here! The guards are all with the Brood and Lord Demetio is a Psyker, who has just knocked out the Governor!"

"We're on our way."

Once again Jane turned to fire. The Lord stood just in front of her, the blue veins beneath his pale skin pulsating. "Such a bother." His voice was quiet and cold, but she could hear it in her head. A short rush of panic, she raised her weapon, when all the sudden something like an invisible freight train rammed her, hurling her across the dining room. The world turned to darkness, as her body was slammed against the wall.

* * *

Quintus slammed the door shut, dulling the voices and cries of the Brood above. Chaos had descended upon their minds, as they tore each other apart, though he had been watching the forming of small groups. The Astartes and Storm Troopers had given up their position and regrouped with the Inquisitor. The chapel was now crowed with the enemy; luckily the Patriarch had been killed before the majority had launched their attack and only two more Storm Troopers had fallen. Seneca was kneeling down next to Cornelius to remove his Geneseed. Quintus felt a hint of sorrow over the loss of their youngest brother. It was a shame he died on his first mission with the Deathwatch.

Meanwhile, Nadim had torn down a wall behind the thrones, revealing another tunnel. It hadn't been shown completely by the scans and the Inquisitor suspected the Magus had used it to travel between House Demetio property in the upper regions of the spire and the nest. Quintus stepped to Seneca, who'd just finished up, speaking a few words of prayer. The Red Scorpion propped up his fallen brother and met the Apothecary's eyes. "He should not be left to that filth." He simply stated and Seneca nodded.

The Killteam followed the straight tunnel for about a kilometer, until they reached a dead-end and an elevator under a small neon light, the door shining in bright silver, unrealistically clean so far below. The Inquisitor had raised his gun with his left arm and opened it to find it empty, as the interior lighting came blinking to life.

"How many fit into the elevator?" The Apothecary asked.

"Two Astartes at most." Inquisitor Nicomedo answered.

Seneca nodded in acknowledgement. "Inquisitor, you should go first."

"Then I'd like Lord Cyrus to accompany me."

Quintus turned to the Blood Raven, who very briefly showed mild surprise at the Inquisitor's request. He had watched his brother vigilantly, for his mind might have been tainted by the alien, though there had been no apparent change in behavior so far. Quintus was a Red Scorpion, zealously devoted to maintain his purity and eliminate even the smallest taint or imperfection, but he was with the Deathwatch and all he could do was voice his concerns. It was troubling that the Inquisitor asked for the company of an unorthodox Blood Raven; maybe Nicomedo could no longer be considered pure.

…

The elevator moved fast, still it would take several minutes before it reached their destination. Nicomedo eyed the Astartes standing beside him; he'd received a few minor wounds along the unprotected part of his arms and legs. The Inquisitor had sensed apprehension from some of the other Astartes and frustration, maybe a hint of bewilderment from the Blood Raven.

"Lord Cyrus, I want you to know that the Magus was one of the most powerful Psykers I have ever encountered, far more powerful than myself. Anyone but an Astartes would have shot himself in a matter of seconds, not even realizing they were being manipulated." There was no verbal reply, but his gaze was almost uncomfortably stern, giving Nicomedo an idea how people he himself questioned felt. "Taylor told me about the environmental effects of your confrontation; before, I have only seen them in a fight between Psykers."

"A Space Marine's conditioning was supposed to strengthen our resolve against the effects of Chaos; and yet faith and will wasn't enough to protect my mind from its influences." Cyrus was not a man who needed to raise his voice to be heard. It just naturally carried a certain weight.

"No guard, no protective measure is ever absolute and it wasn't your will that faulted. The Magus did not, could not trick you, there was no illusion; he was taking control of your body not your mind, a few electric pulses. Even a Librarian requires his Psychic Hood to protect himself." He added. "What has happened will not impair my trust, this mission, your duties or reputation."

…

About fifteen minutes later only three Astartes and Taylor remained in the tunnels. Only a handful of cultists had found their way down there, more on the run than an actual attack. Finally the elevator's door opened again. Nadim turned to Tullius, whose Heavy Bolter had shredded anything coming down that tunnel.

"Are certain you wish to stay? You are wounded, brother."

"Nadim, you may have one or two rounds left. I will hold this position."The Salamander had previously tried to convince Tullius to leave before him; a futile endeavor.

Nadim followed Seneca into the elevator, but addressed a few words to Taylor before the door closed again. "Keep an eye on him." He could have sworn Tullius gave him a brief glare, but the elevator was already set in motion.

…

A few minutes later, sounds emerged from the darkness, more numerous than before. Taylor had ten rounds remaining and already turned off the limiter as a precaution.

"Nervous?" The Ultramarine asked, eyes scanning the tunnel for movement.

"No, however I am not keen of getting slaughtered."

He heard a chuckle. "We should move closer to elevator. There is no reason to remain here any longer than necessary."

Slowly they stepped up to the silver door, when Tullius fired the first round. They hit and the dead body of a Genestealer slid over the ground stopping only a meter or two away from the Astartes. The night vision allowed Taylor to see a few moving shades, growing in number and his eyes shortly wandered over to the door to his right. Hopefully it would open soon. Tullius brought down about a handful, while the Untouchable got just one. Abruptly the Heavy Bolter stopped.

"I'm out." Tullius growled, drawing a Boltpistol, a larger version than Nicomedo's, and a combat knife, the blade about as long as Taylor's upper arm.

"Come on, elevator." Taylor could hear himself whisper.

A Genestealer leaped onto Tullius from the front, receiving a bolt round into the chest and the knife through the mouth. Another was shot by Taylor, when already two more attacked the Astartes. One was hit by a backhand slash bit into the left gauntlet, avoiding the armor-piercing bullets. Tullius' wound in his flank started bleeding again, as he lifted the Genestealer attached to his arm to block a third alien from above. Taylor killed the one, injured from the knife, as out of nowhere he was thrown of his feet by the latest arrival. He would have slammed his head at the door, which slid open only two seconds before impact. The Genestealer buried his teeth into his right lower leg, as if trying to pull him out. He cried out as his bones broke beneath the jaw's pressure and fired his shotgun. The round hit both his leg and the xenos and slammed him back again, this time all the way into the elevator. A second shot killed the alien. Meanwhile Tullius was torn apart; his left arm was completely useless, now four Genestealers were bringing him down, gashing huge slashes and holes into the black Power Armor. Taylor breathed heavily through the pain, aiming, as Tullius screamed over the sound of battle. "Get out!"

He didn't argue, dragged himself to the buttons on the wall and watched the door closing, as he faded into blissful darkness.

* * *

Dim light filled her vision, as sensation returned to her body. Something was shaking her; the feeling was distance, as was the voice reaching her eyes. At first she couldn't make out what it said, until she recognized Seth's voice. "Jane, wake up!"

"Urgh, Seth? What happened?" Then she realized something. "The Governor!"

She was about to leap to her feet, but her fellow Acolyte held her back. "Easy. The Governor is gone; Demetio must have taken him with him."

"He fled?" Jane felt dizzy and she reached for the back of her head. There was blood on her fingertips.

"Yes, Mandrake and I were in pursued, but his followers kept us occupied and he escaped. The nobles on the other hand are still here, one floor above us." He pointed at the Interrogator behind him, working on a radio unit she'd seen were used by the Governor's staff. "Mandrake's trying to figure out how many guards we can count on and where they're entrenched. Those in the Ballroom got wiped out." Jane looked around, still rubbing her head. Not far from her lay Lady Nazahah and Seth got a somber expression. "She hit the wall as well, but landed the wrong way. Neck's broken, she is dead."

Seth helped the Medicae to stand up again and gave her back the Laspistol she'd lost, when the psychic attack had hit her. The distant noise of voices came rustling from the damaged unit and finally Mandrake turned his attention towards the others. "They're holding out on this level; guardroom."

"Alright then." Seth responded, drawing his Hellpistol. "Lead the way."

…

The former Storm Trooper peeked around the corner into another corridor, using a piece of glass from a fallen chandelier as a mirror. The hallway went straight to the guardroom, about fifteen meters ahead and Seth counted nine men, most garbed with Demetio's crest on their uniforms. Only two seemed to have belonged to Governor Lazzaro's guard. Without cover they made easy targets, the shields were all facing the guardroom.

"Leave one of them alive." Mandrake ordered, and checked the charge of his pistols one final time.

"Easy enough." With two swift steps, Seth moved to the left-hand corner, while Jane took his prior position. She threw a blind Grenade, which landed between the men with a rather loud metallic "clong". The three Acolytes avoided their eyes before the flash, but when the cries came, started the short lived firefight. With five guns at their side, most were cut down within the first two seconds; one however turned his shield, blocking the las rounds, though the Hellpistol burned a whole through the upper right corner. Jane adjusted her aim and shot him into the exposed foot, while Seth advanced, tackling the guard. The impact threw him off his feet, and Seth's weight kept him trapped beneath his own shield, when a punch knocked him out.

"Please tell me he's still breathing?"

Seth stepped off and removed the shield. "He's fine; bloody nose, but still fine."

Their attention was diverted, when the door was slammed opened, two shields blocking the doorway, with several barrels peering over them. "Identify yourselves." A deep male voice demanded.

"Guess we didn't go unnoticed." The Storm Trooper assumed, as Mandrake stepped forth, holding up his badge.

"Imperial Inquisition, hold your fire."

Seth could hear voices and the barrels were withdrawn. The two men holding the shields moved aside, making room for their commanding officer, dressed similarly to his men, though the right shoulder plate was fashioned as a golden lion head, the arm apparently coming out of its mouth. The other shoulder plate was covered with purity seals, his helmet was also face-concealing, but at mouth height, fangs were engraved to form a snarling lion-snout.

He eyed the badge, before his glare wandered further to the Acolytes. "I'm Captain Pericles of Lord Governor Lazzaros' Guard."

"Interrogator Nathan Mandrake of the Ordo Xenos, serving and acting under the authority of Inquisitor Basil Nicomedo." His head turned to his companions. "These are Acolyte Seth Nelson and Medicae Jane Pravin, our orders were to protect the Governor."

"You seem to have failed." Captain Pericles put off his helmet. "And so have I." The Captain was a large man, maybe just because of the armor, with a rather lean, square face. What first appeared to be short stubble of hair, turned out to be tattoos; sacred and divine texts covered his head, though leaving his face free of ink. "I trust you can tell me why half of my men suddenly started firing on us."

There was clear anger in his voice, but Seth was surprised how calm he remained despite the chaos of tonight. Mandrake began to explain curtly the Genestealer cult, how they infiltrated societies and turned people without them remembering or their awareness into sleeper agent, by altering their DNA, to be become puppets of the alien's will, when called to.

"So House Demetio as allied themselves with xenos. If what you say is true, they shall be purged without question or trail." His men were gathering behind their captain. "First, however, we have to retake the Governor's palace. Most of my men are fighting down below, leaving us to save the nobility trapped up here."

"You know their exact location?"

"Conference room, one level above; according to our motion trackers and radio communications, the cultists' remaining forces are standing sentinel over them, now that you've killed this dispatch."

Suddenly Seth remembered something. "Mandrake, wasn't there a good reason to keep this one alive?" He kicked the body, lying to his feet.

"Ah, yes; information."

Captain Pericles looked greatly displeased by this, as Mandrake kneeled down and put a hand on the cultist's forehead. "I don't think we have time for questioning."

Mandrake had his eyes already closed. "I didn't intent to ask."

Other than the Captain, Seth knew well what the Interrogator was doing; he was a Psyker, Mandrake would take the information he wanted from this mind that could no longer resist the intrusion. It would probably destroy the cultist's mind beyond recovery, but Seth doubted anyone present cared. He watched the Interrogator's expression twist in his search. It appeared the enemy's mind wasn't a comfortable place to be in, but thankfully Mandrake found soon was he was looking for.

He stood and fired a crimson shot into the man's head. "They've begun to infect the nobles; they want to turn them into contagii. It would give the Brood complete control over the noble houses of this sector."

"Unless the Patriarch and Magus are killed." Jane reminded him. "You think Nicomedo might have failed?"

"Not necessarily; maybe the attack on the nest has simply forced them to act."

"Regardless." Captain Pericles interrupted. "Would it be possible to cure this infection, before it becomes permanent?"

Even to Seth this seemed rather unlikely and unsurprisingly Jane shook her head. "The Genestealer's DNA is very aggressive and fast working; I do not know how to reverse it, or if it's even possible."

Pericles hid his disappointment and nodded. "Then you must find out who's infected, so we can grant them the Emperor's mercy."

* * *

_Quae medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat, quae ferrum non sanat, ignis sanat_

What medicine does not heal, iron heals; what iron does not heal, fire heals.


	8. Chapter 8

Behind a white portal, covered with golden floral motives, lay the hallway on which the cultists had barricaded themselves. According to the Captain, the hallway led to the conference room, where they expected the remaining xenos were guarding the planets nobility. The three Acolytes and Captain Pericles, with eight of his men, had come up the stairs, now studying the findings of a motion tracker on the screen, fastened at the Captain's arm. The conference room was to be a huge circular room, where the Lord Governor usually held audiences and welcomed guests. About two hundred signatures crowded the center, surrounded by a ring of nineteen individuals. On the hallway itself were only five men, separated from the room by another portal.

"We somehow need to kill those five without alerting anyone else inside." Mandrake whispered, running a few fingers over his chin.

Captain Pericles had an idea. "We have enough silent weapons; all we require is exact timing and perfect aim."

Jane nodded; well lined up shots could take them out before the cultists had time to react, and she looked up at the Captain, who was now wearing his helmet again. "And then? There are at least nineteen cultists we would have to take out, and they have hostages."

"It won't be impossible to retake the conference room without collateral damage." He answered with a clinical tone. "I trust you still have some of the blind grenades, Lady Nazahah has issued." Naturally Pericles knew about their equipment; he had authorized it and had placed his guard's weaponry at their disposal.

"We have five left." Seth answered, putting a sound suppressor onto his pistol's barrel. As quiet as a las weapon could be, his Hell Pistol was still a very audible variation, and he wasn't about to take a risk.

"Enough to blind everyone in the room." With gesture, Captain Pericles called three of his men, who ,taking their large body-covering shields aside, walk up to take their place in front of the door. During the next minute, they adjusted their aim, five sound suppressor barrels pointed at the door. Pericles checked the motion tracker one last time, before he and Mandrake opened the portal. The line of fire was free, the five cultists turned around surprised and confused, trying to raise their guns, one opened his mouth to shout, less than a second before each was killed by a precise las round. They collapsed, smoke emerging from the exit wounds. Five black spots now dotted the door to the conference room.

The group advanced to said door, Pericles returning to examine the monitor. "No movement." He said to Jane's relieve. "Two groups each will circle around one side after the grenades hit. Two of my men shall remain here to keep anything or anyone from escaping."

"Understood." Mandraked replied, while the Captain divided his men. "Pravin will join your group, if you don't mind."

He looked at her; at least that's what it looked like with his helmet on. Jane couldn't say that she liked it, being examined like this, and so she replied with a cold stare. "No objections." Pericles said.

The two door wings swung open, followed by five blind grenades, flying through the air, the entire room suddenly filled by bright light, and outcries of nobles and cultists alike. The hybrids fired randomly, probably hoping to hit something, and indeed some rounds found the crouching people at the center. Mandrake led Seth and three guards to the left, cutting down four still blinded cultists, Pericles leading the rest to the right, killing another three, before fire was returned. The advance slowed down, each squad now covered by the silver shields. While Jane stayed behind this wall, firing from time to time, whenever the enemy seemed to take a break, Pericles moved further right, from where a cultist attempted to flank them. His smaller, circular shield blocked a few bullets from the stub gun, and with only a couple of steps, the Captain was close enough to bash his shield against his opponents face. The nose cracked audibly and the enemy stumbled backwards, as Pericles finished him off by slamming the shield's side against the larynx, cutting deep into the throat, the shield now covered with bright red spots and streams.

Without cover, the cultist offered easy targets, though some were dragging hostages with them, and after two minutes, only six remained. A handful of nobles tried to run, however they were stopped by the two guards at the doorway, others lay dead in pools of blood, most however still cowered, crying and screaming. At this point Mandrake had had enough. The Psyker reached out with his will, and now that their Magus was no longer nearby, their number reduced, the Interrogator could use this power. Their bodies twitched as if struck by electricity, their eyes getting empty.

"Let them go." Mandrake ordered his voice harsh and almost unnaturally loud; Jane had to cling to her gun, to not succumb to the effect. Some of the guards however were unprepared and dropped shields and weapons alike. Very slowly the remaining cultists removed their arms from the hostages; a woman realized that quickly, and rammed her elbow into the cultist's stomach, who stumbled surprised backwards, before she ran to her husband in the cowering crowd. Pericles, Seth and Jane pushed forward, with those guards still holding on to their guns, and finished the last cultists off.

…

Almost twenty minutes later Mandrake and Seth were standing in the hallway again, in the audience room behind them, Captain Pericles was speaking to the disgruntled as well as frightened nobles, while Jane was tending to his men's wounds. The Interrogator had finally managed to contact Nicomedo, who had just come from the lair, and was now in the spacious estate of House Demetio.

"The palace is under control again?" There was some edge in the Inquisitor's voice.

"Yes, my Lord." Mandrake replied. "Every cultist has been eliminated; however the Magus has escaped us." He admittedly felt ashamed for his shortcomings, but nothing in his voice seemed to betray this.

There was a short pause, before his mentor answered. "He's returned home, I can already sense him somewhere above us. As soon as the Kill Team has regrouped we will hunt him down. I want you to join us here."

The Interrogator's mood lightened up. "We'll come as soon as we can. May I suggest you proceed without us, sir; we can catch up with you on the higher levels." There was no time to waste in Mandrake's opinion, and at this point he couldn't tell how long it would take them to join Lord Nicomedo. The Magus should not escape a second time because of him.

"Agreed, but be quick."

"Yes, sir. Mandrake out." He said with some enthusiasm.

Seth looked concerned. "You've heard that in his voice?" He asked his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"We have a second Magus he didn't account for, and the Governor got kidnapped. Who knows how many nobles are infected; our Lord's displeasure is understandable." Mandrake was confused by Seth's annoyed look, the Acolyte gave him at his words.

Jane and Pericles joined them a moment later, the Medicae's hands covered with blood, though she tried to clean them with something that look like a handkerchief, while Pericles looked strained.

"I have tried to explain the situation to the nobles." The Captain began. "They are less than thrilled about being examined for alien genomes, but my men will keep them here until your Inquisitor returns. Some of them extradite others, claiming the xeno have done things to them."

"You believe them?" The Interrogator asked.

He watched astonished as Captain Pericles shot a scornful look back to the crowed. "There are many internal conflicts within the nobility; they might see this as a chance to get rid of a competitor."

"Even in these times?"

"Sir Interrogator, once you've spend as much time as I around politics, you will see that there is no time dire enough to stop their disputes."

Mandrake nodded in acknowledgement. "My mentor, Inquisitor Nicomedo, has ordered me and my fellow operatives to rejoin him. We are to hunt down the Magus, and if possible rescue the Governor."

The Interrogator had just gained Pericles full attention. "In that case, I must ask you to take me with you. My duty, the duty of his Guard is to protect him, and tonight we have failed him." He straightened himself. "For the honor of the men and women under my command, I'd like to join you, and return the Governor myself."

Jane and Seth exchanged looks, before turning their gaze towards Mandrake, waiting for his answer, as he was still in charge. He briefly considered his options. "We'd be honored to have you with us Captain Pericles." It was the first time they saw the man smile, and he bowed shortly in appreciation. "I would be further grateful if you could bring us to House Demetio's estate."

"Naturally." Pericles replied. "The Governor has several speeders in his hangers. They should bring us to the spire in less than fifteen minutes. Please, follow me."

* * *

Pain rushed up his leg, waking him up quite roughly. He whimpered and opened his eyes again, seeing that the elevator had stopped. Taylor looked at his still bleeding and shattered leg, his vision blurred, almost colorless, and he very slowly dragged himself to the door, which was silently sliding open to something like a storeroom. A huge, towering figure approached him, according to the weapon and the green colored, right shoulder-plate it was Lord Nadim.

"Acolyte Taylor." His voice was a bombardment to his head, though the Astartes wasn't speaking loudly. "What has happened?"

Taylor was somewhat lifted, and brought to a nearby wall to keep him sitting upright. The Kill Team gathered around him, with Nicomedo kneeling next to his Acolyte, a worried and slightly distressed look in his eyes. The Inquisitor reactivated the Limiter. "Taylor?"

"Genestealers." He answered, groaning from the continuing pain. "Overran us…just before the elevator…came back. Lord Tullius ordered me…to leave."

"Are they already reorganizing?" Taylor couldn't tell who of the Astartes had spoken.

Nicomedo turned to the group behind him. "If what Mandrake told me is true, we have yet another Magus to deal with." Taylor could tell that the Inquisitor's next words were directed at him. "The others are coming to join us. I want you to stay awake until then." Nicomedo turned to the surviving Storm Troopers. "Marcus, Lucas; you'll carry him."

…

Another larger and more luxurious elevator brought the Kill Team farther up the spire. Inquisitor Nicomedo could sense the Magus, ever since it had returned to its home. It was weaker than the other one, probably the reason it was the official head of the Demetio House, being more difficult to detect as what it was. Nicomedo's eyes wandered over to his Acolyte, who hung limply in the Strom Troopers' arms, a small pool of blood forming beneath his foot. He hoped Jane would arrive soon, before Taylor was out, or went into shook.

The elevator's doors opened to another long corridor, windows along the entire left side. The strange thing was that the entire right wall was covered with red twines, and the air itself was not clear but misty, the humidity increased drastically.

"Lord Seneca, what do you make of this?" Nicomedo asked, his eyes scanning the twines, even growing as he watched.

"Tyranids manipulate plant life to absorb as much biomass as a world can supply. There have been reports of deserts turning into lush forest under their influence. I suspect something similar has occurred here. I wouldn't touch it." He added, when the Inquisitor reached out with a few fingers to touch the twines, only to quickly pull them back at the warning.

"Let's move on."

They walked for another minute, Taylor slowing them down somewhat, a door in sight at the end, easily another two hundred meters away. Seneca lifted his head, when sounds emerged from above. "Ventilation system." He simply stated, and the Astartes raised their weapons. About six Genestealers crashed through the ceiling, simultaneously the door opened and Hybrids came, guns blazing into the hallway. Nicomedo shot back, in the corner of his healthy eye watching the Apothecary piercing an alien through the relatively unprotected abdomen, purple blood spilling over his arm and helmet. While attempting to evade the las-fire, Nicomedo came into contact with the wall, dozens of thorns ramming into his skin, their barbed hooks causing him to drag along the twines as he detached again. He immediately felt dizzy, and tried to rid himself of the plants with his energy sword, the blade cutting both twines and the marble wall. His view turned foggy, and he went on his knees, keeping himself up only by his sword, as if it were a crutch. Damn poison; Nicomedo's mind was already occupied by stopping his bleeding.

"Inquisitor." The remaining four Storm Troopers that weren't helping Taylor, had come forth to assist the Inquisitor, three firing at the Hybrids, the one who'd addressed Nicomedo, dragging him behind his men. The Astartes were still fighting the Genestealers; Nicomedo could see Cyrus stabbing a monster through the open snout with his combat knife, the blade re-emerging at the top of its head, his Bolt Pistol punching Hellfire Rounds into the skeletal torso. Maccius' claw tore another two into pieces, Quintus crushed one at the wall, his lower arm against its throat. The claws were slicing through his armor, but unable to hit anything vital, the Red Scorpion, grabbed its upper jaw, and while the fangs dug into his hand, he broke the skull in two. The last was killed by the Apothecary.

Meanwhile three Storm Troopers were almost simultaneously hit by bright red las-fire, stumbling, one dead instantly as it penetrated his carapace armor and chest. The second was hit in the leg, tried to get up, only to be shot in the head, the third only saved, when Nadim grabbed him, and pulled him back. The Salamander covered the survivors with his own body, providing the only cover in the hallway. Thankfully the las-fire could not make it through the Astartes' armor. He had also drawn his Bolt Pistol, firing with the right, the left still holding his Melta. At this point seven Hybrids had been killed.

The fight was suddenly interrupted, when fire was opened on the windows, and two seconds later a blue speeder smashed through the glass, taking with it the remaining Hybrids, and crushed them against the adjacent wall. The difference in pressure sucked the last two out of the hole, before heavy shutters came down, closing it up again, and cutting off the speeder's rear in the process. Dust and debris was catapulted through the air, making the Inquisitor violently cough. Thankfully with the speeder's entrance the fighting was over for the moment. The cockpit opened and voices swept over, the first sounding like Seth Nelson.

"Did I get them?"

"Yes, you got the 'em." A female voice replied annoyed, even angry. "Feel better know, or would you like try to kill us a second time?"

Mandrake came next. "There was the high possibility that the speeder would have simply been destroyed by the impact."

"That's why I shot at the windows first."

"Genius." The female voice replied dry and snappy.

Nicomedo shook his head, slightly bemused, the break providing him with enough time to get back on his feet. Jane was the first to emerge from the dusty fog, the high-heeled shoes, replaced by military issue boots and carapace chest armor over a Governor's Guard uniform. She gave Nicomedo a short nod, and kneeled down next to the Untouchable, who the two Storm Troopers leaned against one of the still intact windows. Taylor looked tired, his eyes disoriented, but he spoke with a bit of a smile, pretending like nothing had happened. "Hi, Jane. How was your day?"

"Not too bad, until the party was crashed." She wasn't looking at him, instead examining his leg. "You'll need an augmentic." She rammed a needle into his upper leg, making him flinch.

"Lovely as always."

Jane gave him a dry smile. "Even dying you can't shut up."

"Don't tell me you wouldn't be worried, having me all quiet. What happened to your dress?"

"Ever worn a corset?" She asked in return, cleaning the wound as best she could.

Taylor coughed. "Can't say that I have."

"Then I give you the short version: it's impossible to fight in them."

"I'm sure to remember that for next time."

Mandrake, Nelson and a man in the Governor's Guard's armor turned the Inquisitor's attention away from the Medicae. Both his Acolytes had received the carapace armor, wearing it over their suits, but looked mostly unharmed, aside from a few superficial cuts and burns. "My Lord." The Interrogator greeted him.

"Mandrake, I trust the nobles are contained?" This infection could not be allowed to spread any further.

"Yes, the guards are ensuring no one leaves before our return. The nobles aren't happy, but they are scared: we have received news of sabotage and attacks from all over the planet."

"What sort of attacks?"

Mandrake turned to the other man in his company. "Captain."

The Guard removed his helmet. "My Lord Inquisitor, I'm Captain Pericles of the Governor's Guard. I have spoken with the Adeptus Arbites, PDF, Imperial Guard and Navy. They all have reported cultists within their ranks, and multiple attacks as well as bombings. As we speak they are locked up in battle, and will not be able to assist us."

This was the very reason why he hadn't contacted local authorities, and asked for their assistance. "Unfortunate, but I've been expecting this. My Acolytes have briefed you on our mission?"

Captain Pericles nodded, his eyes briefly moving over to the Space Marines, seemingly worried. Who knew if he'd ever seen one before? "Yes, milord. I'm at your service."

"Very well; you've been here before, Captain?"

"Naturally, I've accompanied the Governor several times, when he visited the Demetio family."

Nicomedo was delighted to hear this. While he could sense the malice beings in this place, anything else was unknown to him, with most of his own powers busy at keeping him alive. "Can you tell me what is behind that door? I can sense the Magus' presence in the room behind it."

Captain Pericles nodded yet again. "The inner courtyard, a huge garden for recreational purposes around a monument, remembering deeds of the family."

A garden; that could complicate things. "The dimensions?"

"Circular room, about a hundred diameters, with four, symmetrical pathways forming a cross, meeting at central monument. The only doors are this one and another at the opposite side. Glass ceiling might be accessible from the outside."

"Why do you think the Magus stays there?" Nelson asked, after his eyes were finished regarding the unnatural plant life.

"I take it you've seen these plants; if this is caused by the Brood, I suspect they could turn that garden into a jungle, which is a perfect environment for Genestealers. Besides, this Magus is now the only creature on this world still controlling the Brood, and seeing as it is significantly weaker than both the Patriarch as well as the other Magus, I suspect it has to focus on this task. Doing anything else at this point might throw the Brood into disarray, and this at the critical point of their attack." Nicomedo was basically just glad the Magus had run off to such a well-known location. Searching him all over the planet could have been both exhausting and futile. Maybe it trusted too much in the capability of his kin.

Jane stepped up behind him, and pulled off the last twines from his shoulders. She looked at them for a second, frowned saying. "You have been poisoned; I 'm afraid I do not have the antidote with me."

"Your concerned is appreciated, but I will make through tonight." He replied, trying to sound not has tired as he felt. He was reaching his limits. "Now we must end this. I might need Taylor's help again: how is he?"

She looked positively unhappy, and crossed her arms. "He suffered severe blood loss, and whatever has been in the Genestealers saliva is infecting the wound. All I could do was stabilizing his circulation."

"All I need him to do is turn off his collar."

Jane looked back at Taylor with concern, thinking over her answer. "I need to start treating him in less than three hours." She finally said.

Nicomedo breathed in deeply. "I believe that's going to be enough."

The Kill Team got moving again, and Nelson walked beside Nicomedo. "So?" He asked. "Is there a plan here?"

"Kill everything inside."

"As always you have a fine eye for the details, milord." The Acolyte noted dryly.

…

The team crossed the smoking wreck, and was not attacked again on their way to the portal. Even the twines could not cover the Demetio axe-emblem, dominating the two door wings. "Throne, no!" The Medicae suddenly exclaimed in what was almost a whisper, her eyes staring out the window in shock.

Cyrus turned his head just in time. A Battle Cruiser broke through the atmosphere, all five kilometers of the hull, burning and glowing brightly at the entry, coming straight down. The eagle-shaped bow hit the city first, and as the ground crumbled the front, parts of the massive Cruiser exploded, before a fireball coming from below swallowed not just it, but expanded and was coming towards the spire.

"Get down!" Seneca bellowed.

The blast and fire wave hit the spire, and the entire construction shook violently, windows bursting, showering the hallway with razor-sharp shards. The Astartes covered the normal humans from the worst; while most shards were deflected or stuck to his armor, Cyrus could feel one slicing the side of his neck, and another stabbing into the back of his lower leg. Flames licked around them, reacting to the increased level of oxygen inside the building, and part of the ceiling collapsed. A heavy flagstone came down, causing the Medicae to jump back closer to him. The pressure difference made itself perceivable again, dragging even at the Space Marines. Unfortunately the building was so damaged that not all shutters came down, leaving holes. The Blood Raven saw Nadim and Quintus hold on to the two Storm Troopers supporting the Untouchable, in order to keep them inside. A few seconds later the pressure difference was resolved, and the drag disappeared. More or less slowly everyone rose. The Medicae just in front of him was rubbing her ears; without Lyman's Ear her inner hear had been unprotected.

"You're unharmed?" He asked, a hand grabbing the shard in his leg and pulling it out.

"Yes, milord." She answered him, putting out a small flame on her sleeve, before she looked at him. "Pardon, milord." With a finger the Acolyte pointed at his head. "But your hair is on fire."

As he killed it, the Inquisitor checked on his men, anger and frustration marked his expression. "Is everyone alright?"

"Couldn't be better." Acolyte Nelson growled, removing shards from his left arm, his sleeve drenched in blood.

"Watch your tone." Inquisitor Nicomedo replied. "More than a million souls have just been killed, because we haven't stopped those monsters yet. I can do without your remarks."

The Acolyte looked grim, but nodded quietly. Nadim and Maccius took the lead, arms ready, waiting for the order to open the door, while the Inquisitor and Seneca assigned teams, keeping Psykers and the Untouchable separated. The portal opened, and the pressure difference created a strong draft; the air from inside was warm and humid. Cyrus could not help, but be reminded of Typhon's jungles. The large trees, which had not gone through the roof twenty meters above, prevented most of the moonlight from reaching the ground, and the few lights along the wall only cast diffuse twilight onto the scene. The path ahead was partly destroyed by the flat but high roots, and one could even watch the twines and moss crawl over the terracotta-colored stone. Everyone put on their night vision goggles, the Medicae was offered Acolyte Taylor's, leaving only Seth Nelson and Interrogator Mandrake without.

"I could set this all on fire." Nadim suggested.

"You would only force the Magus to retreat." Apothecary Seneca interjected. "Have you located him, Inquisitor?"

"Yes, at the center. I can also sense three dozens of his brood."

Acolyte looked questioning. "So, will we actually get there?" A justified question; two Battle-Brother had fallen already, and more of the Inquisitorial Storm Troopers. In this environment, with severely reduced ammunition and injuries, the xenos had clearly the upper hand. The Kill Team's only real advantage was the nearly unconscious Untouchable.

"We have no other choice but to try, or this world will soon go up in flames." The Inquisitor answered. "Good luck to Lord Seneca."

"And to you Inquisitor."

The team split up, Seneca leading half to the left, Lord Nicomedo the others, including Cyrus to the right. The Inquisitor's team consisted of Nadim, Interrogator Mandrake, Pravin, Captain Pericles, two Storm Troopers and himself. Each team would move to the next pathway, about 90° along the circular room, and then go straight for the Magus, attacking from two sides, rather than one. They weren't attacked during the first thirty meters or so, when suddenly a Storm Trooper's head exploded, and Cyrus turned his head just in time to see a Genestealer coming for him, mouth opened, presenting its razor-sharp fangs. The Astartes' arm blocked the worst, though he flinched when the claws went through his gauntlet, cutting into his flesh. A few rounds from his Bolt Pistol took care of it, when a second and a third took him down. His head slammed against the wall, as he immediately stabbed one with his combat knife into the side of its head. The third however kept with two of its arm Cyrus from firing at it, a single shot only disappearing somewhere into the jungle. A claw lashed about, and he tilted his head away, still three lines were cut over his face. What wouldn't he give for a shotgun. A bright blue light appeared, and an energy sword cut through the Genestealer's neck.

Captain Pericles stood next to him, a huge piece bitten out of his round shield, and another dead xeno to his own feet. Cyrus nodded his thanks, and got back on his feet, blood running down his face, before dropping off his chin. The Captain cringed, when the Blood Raven suddenly rose his pistol, seemingly aiming at the man, only that the round hit another Genestealer, jumping out of the vegetation, though only a second finished it off. Cyrus' eyes wandered briefly over the fight, seeing Pravin firing Las-Pistols at Hybrids, same as the Interrogator, who was keeping Genestealers with his powers at bay, pushing them back into the forest. The multitasking was giving him trouble though, so Pericles and Cyrus took down two of those monsters. Another one evaded the rounds, emptying Cyrus' clip, practically bounced off the wall to launch itself at the Astartes. He quickly picked up the sword of the fallen Storm Trooper, though it was about as long as his knife, and met his attacker with both blades. Unfortunately they hit the Genestealer at the torso, the best protected part of its body. Only with his enhanced strength, Cyrus was able to bring it down, the blades not slicing, but breaking through the exo-ribs, a kick to the skull ensuring its death.

Thankfully the remaining attackers were Hybrids, and they were able to use the partial over one meter high roots as cover, even if sometimes a las shot got through the wood. "We need to move on!" Shouted the Inquisitor, though without radio his voice would have been drowned by the firefight. They continued to advance along the tree line, rushing from root to root, when a bright crimson shot hit the Medicae in her left shoulder, tossing her forwards, where she was caught by the Interrogator. Lucky for her, the wound was immediately cauterized by the las round's intense heat.

"You're alright?" Interrogator Mandrake asked.

"I'm fine." She answered, despite clenching her teeth. "Until the adrenaline wears off, at least. Let's go."

The team continued under heavy fire, without anyone being injured too badly, until eventually they reached the pathway. Nadim and the Inquisitor were still in the lead, the latter having increased difficulty with holding himself up, and so the remaining Storm Trooper had to support him from time to time. Cyrus took the Sniper Rifle from his back. This pathway was to lead straight to the room's center, though the flora was covering everything in complete darkness. Not to mention one had to look around the roots and trunks, which were getting in the way, and yet probably the only thing giving them a chance to get to Magus. If the Governor weren't here they could have just blown up the place, instead of putting their life so unnecessarily in danger. Cyrus dismissed those thoughts, focusing only on the task at hand.

It was then, the Inquisitor addressed him. "Lord Cyrus, could you take out the Magus from here?"

"Negative; view is too restricted, and I cannot get a clear shot."

Undoubtedly Lord Nicomedo was looking for a solution; what he came up with was not to the Astartes liking. "We need a distraction, someone to lead them away from us."

"More than one." Nadim corrected him. "I'd like to take the Storm Trooper with me, and Captain Pericles." Both men nodded their affirmation.

The Inquisitor did the same, and hid completely behind a root, suggesting the other to do as he. They waited what was certainly less than a minute, though feeling significantly longer, before Nadim jumped out of cover, followed by the Storm Trooper and Pericles, into the jungle to their right, red lights on their heels. It wasn't long before the Hybrids went after them, soon crossing the path to keep up the pursued; in this case, the darkness was helpful. When the fighting had distanced itself from the other four, Lord Nicomedo gave the order. Pravin and Mandrake basically grabbed the Inquisitor under the arms, to speed things up, dragging him along the Path, Cyrus behind them. After forty meters, even in the twilight, Cyrus could finally see the Magus atop of the tumbled monument, a black marble block, surrounded by his Brood, all Hybrids of sorts. Cyrus took aim, sights on its head. He pulled the trigger.

The Magus turned its pale head towards him, two Hybrids jumping in the way, both killed instantly by the bullet. It went through them though, misdirected by flesh and bone hitting the Magus at the shoulder, throwing it off its feet. With only one last round to spend, he returned to combat knife and Bolt Pistol, as the Hybrids attacked, about fifteen of them. He took down three, las rounds impacting on his carapace armor without inflicting damage, before the ones only armed with swords and knives reached them. Both Acolytes had taken down five, now letting go of the Inquisitor, whose energy sword cut through a xeno body effortlessly. The Hybrids, apparently infected servants, posed little challenge to trained operatives and an Astartes, who were cutting them down one after the other. The only thing keeping them from finishing the job was reinforcements.

Being threatened so directly, the Magus had relocated his forces, and from the part of the jungle where Nadim should be, fire erupted. Being forced into melee anyway, he fired a second shot at the Magus, who tilted his head and dodged the bullet, before Cyrus took the fight to its kin, suddenly appearing between the Hybrids ranks. A round removed a pale, disfigured head, a slash with the knife cut a nearby throat, before a vicious backhand broke through a Hybrid's ribcage, just when a second round went straight through a head, into another one's arm.

The Inquisitor and his two Acolytes meanwhile, had taken care of those on the clearing, advancing on the Magus. It however, was not helpless without its servants; it simply evaded their rounds. Lightning was launched at the two Acolytes, Pravin thrown back, body smoking, while the Psyker seemed more resilient, holding is ground for a few seconds, before brought to his knees. Now Lord Nicomedo took his turn, deflecting the lightning with his energy sword. It turned into a stalemate; the Inquisitor couldn't advance, while the Magus was forced to concentrate on his current opponent. If he hadn't been locked in combat against the Hybrids, Cyrus might have been able to take the xeno down.

Suddenly the psychic duel was interrupted, both stopped, the Magus reaching yelling for his head, Nicomedo collapsing to the ground. From the other pathway, the two Storm Troopers had arrived, still carrying the Untouchable, whose collar was obviously turned off. He was probably the only reason the three of them had made it unharmed. Just a second later, Maccius rushed out of the jungle, his glowing Energy Claws pointed at the Magus. Finally this would end.

Two meters separated him from the xeno, when a huge shade tackled the Raven Guard, who groaned in pain, though not from the impact. Mantis-like claws had pierced his chest. The thing was about two and a half meters high, rather slim of build with six limbs, aside from the claws it was equipped with talons and tendrils as mouthparts, the carapace shifting with its surroundings; in the darkness it was almost invisible. So far Cyrus had only heard of it: Lictor, a vanguard of the Hive Fleet. Quickly he took care of the last three Hybrids, with no other enemy in sight, he switched back to his sniper; with only one bullet left, he had to make a decision. Maccius' right arms was trapped, his left claw however slashed one of the enemy's arms off. The tendrils came to life, running over the Astartes' helmet, and as Cyrus took aim, some of them broke through the red lenses. What followed was a scream of pain, Maccius body convulsing, but the bullet already on its way. It pierced the Lictor's head, and its lifeless body toppled over to the side, mantis-claws still in the Astartes' torso. None of them moved.

When Cyrus turned his attention back to the still crippled Magus, Captain Pericles emerged out of the vegetation, taking the Magus by surprise. His Shield was gone, along with his cloak, and so he held his Energy Sword with both hands. He lifted the blade straight up, hilt above his head, tip pointed at the xeno. With all his strength, Pericles brought it down, ramming the blade through the back of the neck, before it resurfaced at the chest. The xeno looked utterly shocked, spitting blood. Its gaze slowly wandered down to the blade, just when it collapsed, and the Captain pulled at the sword, slicing the human form wide open, through chest, shoulder and neck. Breathing heavily, Pericles stood at the dead body, before his sword came down again, and beheaded the xeno, ensuring its demise.

The Inquisitor had sat up at this point, behind him Mandrake was helping Pravin back on her feet, and nodded his compliments. "Well done, Captain. The Governor is fortunate to have someone like you in his services."

"My thanks for your compliments, but I cannot accept them until the Governor is found and saved. Besides, without your team I could have never accomplished this task." Nadim entered the clearing, carrying the body of the Storm Trooper, who seemed to be still alive, as he lifted his head slightly. The Astartes himself looked rather beaten, the silver and green parts of his armor blackened by las fire. Nadim's eyes wandered from the Magus to Maccius, though his helmet hid his expression from the rest.

"Of your course. Jane, please help me up." With his armor on, the Inquisitor proved almost too heavy for his Acolyte, yet with a growl she helped him stand. It was obvious he needed treatment soon. "He is close by; his mind is the only none alien mind aside from us. It would seem he is kept in the only room connected to this place. Mandrake, you should be easily able to sense him. I want you to bring the Captain to the Governor."

"Aren't we facing more opposition?"

"The two who are guarding Lord Lazzaro should pose no threat to you; and besides, the brood should be in disarray once more, even vulnerable to psychic attacks. We'll take care of the rest in here, though I fear the true cleansing must wait for now." There was no arguing with the Inquisitor; their number was greatly diminished, their ammunition all but spent, and everyone had been injured, requiring treatment in varying degrees. Continuing at this point, would mean the death of them all.

"As you wish, sir."

* * *

It had been only a few minutes since the Battle Cruiser had crashed into the city, but the Adrastos' crew had already recovered from the sight. They had seen many horrible things, and not knowing anyone who lived their eased the suffered shock. Yes, millions had died, yet as it was now, it was only a number in their heads, without an immediate impact on any of them.

At least that was how Ship Mistress Vivian Sammael saw it. She was on the bridge, where she spent most of her day, only watching the fight the Navy fought amongst themselves, unable to intervene. She prayed Nicomedo would get a move on, and finally kill those damn xenos, before the entire planet went up in flames. Factories, power plants, barracks; she had watched many explode or be fought over. It was almost as if the planet was caught up in a civil war, though Vivian was well aware that theoretically all those attacks only required a few people in key positions to sabotage and plant a few explosives.

As dawn came over this side of the planet, one of her crewmen approached her, his expression worried, even nervous. "Milady, we have lost contact with the neighboring sector."

"Lost contact? What is the problem?"

"The Astropath described it as a shadow across the warp." He replied, restlessly rubbing his knuckles.

Vivian held tighter to the railing; Nicomedo had told her what to look out for in her wait. "Contact the Inquisitor at once! His mission has just been prolonged."

* * *

_Do, ut des_

I give, so you give


	9. Chapter 9

Clear, cold water ran over her hands, making Jane shiver as she stared at the whirlpool above the drain. She hadn't slept for almost two days now, the bin next to her was filled with bloody gloves, and one-time tools. Jane was back on Adrastos, treating the survivors of the Team; Nicomedo was still having his blood cleaned, and wouldn't be leaving the med bay for the next two hours, Seth had received some stitches and patches, just like Mandrake, who'd already returned to the Governor's Palace. Storm Trooper Marcus and Lucas were in a similar condition, while the third one Harris was still out, wounded while he along with Lord Nadim and Pericles provided the distraction; he would make it through. Taylor was in a similar, yet worse condition: dialysis was cleaning his blood from poison, while receiving four transfusions; something in the alien saliva was inhibiting the blood clotting. In the lab Tech Priest Cicero was constructing a surrogate leg for him. Jane had already removed his destroyed one, and now looked over to the cooled room, where they kept the bodies of any Storm Trooper they'd been able to recover so far. Emperor, how much she hated autopsies.

In a separate room, Apothecary Seneca was tending to the Astartes. Three had died already; after the Magus' defeat, Lord Quintus had taken the elevator back to the nest, while the rest of them had been waiting for extraction, and recovered Tullius' body. He was lucky not to have been attacked, and his fellow Astartes had been less than pleased with his action. All four who lived would be ready to stand against the Tyranid Fleet, once it arrived.

Jane sat down at her desk, trying to ignore the data-slates lying on top, not feeling in the mood and lacking the proper concentration to fill in the reports. Who knew how long she sat there, just drifting into sleep, when the door opened, and Seth came in. In his hands he was holding two steaming mugs, and he sat down across from her.

"You should get yourself some sleep." He noted, putting one mug in front of her.

"And that's why you've brought me caffeine?"

"Actually it's tea." Seth corrected her, puffing away the steam of his drink.

She took the mug, the warm ceramic warming her hands comfortably. "Oh,...thanks." It was a bit meekly, but the man nodded, gazing into space. Jane carefully took a sip, still burning the tip of her tongue.

"So." Seth began after a short while. "How's Taylor?"

"Unconscious, and there is still plenty of poison in his blood, or what's left of it. I have servitors have a constant watch over him." She looked up at her fellow Acolyte. "If he makes it through tonight, he survives."

He nodded, clearly relieved by this news, the tension in his body language easing. Seth had changed his clothing into something Jane could only describe as an olive green jogging suit, which had been patched several times, just like its owner. At least he had gotten some sleep; the only dark ring around his left eye was from a cut she'd stitched earlier. "Good news; I'd hate to put yet another name on the Wall."

Jane bit her lower lip. "Me too." The Wall was a white marble block, shaped into the two-headed eagle, standing in Nicomedo's garden, at the house the Inquisitor owned on Ibelin. All names of his fallen Acolytes were engraved there, and almost every time they got back there, a new name would be added. This time, if they made it back, Lucien Brennan would join the list on its wings.

In the following moments of silence, Seth let his eyes wander from the door leading to the patients' room back to the Medicae. "You should get some sleep; I'm sure the servitors will inform you of anything that'll happen here."

"I didn't feel like I could." She admitted, though Jane couldn't think of a reasonable explanation why; it was just a stupid feeling.

"You'd feel better if I stayed here?"

Jane shook her head. "No, but thanks for the offer." Her fingers ran over closed eyelids. "Dear Lord, I'm tired."

"Then get moving: in this state you're no help to anyone." Seth said, nodding toward the exit, right before finishing his mug.

There was no arguing, and Jane stood up, leaving still steaming tea behind. "Right; good night, Seth." With slow steps she headed for the door, while Seth bid her goodnight.

* * *

Candles lit the Adrastos' small, white, ceiling painted blue chapel, their light reflected by the stain glass windows, showing saints of the Imperium, and just behind an altar the Emperor himself. Cyrus quietly muttered his prayers in front of it, down on one knee, hands folded upon another. As Nadim was repairing their armors, he was currently dressed in simply robes, and Apothecary Seneca had already taken care of his comparatively minor injuries, still several scars would remain, especially along his arms. Those however weren't his concern in the slightest, but the experience with the Magus.

Like any Astartes he was used to injury, he knew well to avoid it, and so despite centuries of service never had required further augmentation beyond his Gene-Seed Implants. He remembered a brother from the Iron Hands scoff about this, advising Cyrus to have his limbs replaced by bionics; however to deliberately remove one's own arms and legs seemed excessive, and in the long run unnecessary.

With the Magus' assault it was different, no physical wound to mend, only knowledge of his own sudden vulnerability to a powerful Psyker, and the doubt coming along for the ride. The Inquisitor had assured him that his mind was not corrupted that the xeno's influence was physical only, but he could still feel some kind of resonance, lingering in the back of his head, like a bad taste on your tongue. Focusing his mind on the prayers helped, and so he'd spent over and hour now in the chapel.

The silence was disturbed when the door was thrown open, the sudden draft killing the nearest candles. "Asking for forgiveness?" Quintus. Cyrus didn't respond, simply ground his teeth with a touch of annoyance, and made no visible sign that he'd even acknowledged the Red Scorpion's presence.

Steps came closer. "The Inquisitor trusts you still, and so do our brothers." He stopped next to the Blood Raven. "I don't, and honestly I always had my doubts; flawed Gene-Seed, theft from other chapters…probably enough to damn you." Quintus spoke slowly, with clear threat in his voice. "If any of your actions just hint at your corruption, you can be sure I'll be there to take care of it."

Still, Cyrus gave no reply, having begun another prayer. It clearly annoyed Quintus who growled in anger, but then turned around and left, closing the door behind him just as loud and demonstrative as he had opened it. Cyrus interrupted his reciting and stood up, blood rushing back into his leg, leaving a slight tingling sensation. He stepped over to the dead candles, and picked up one of the matches. As he lighted the candles once again, he continued the _Declaration of Faith_.

"My Emperor, judge me whole: Find me well within Your grace Touch me with fire that I be cleansed…"

* * *

"I trust the Governor will be more cooperative, after we have saved his life."

Apothecary Seneca and Inquisitor Nicomedo walked together, heading for the hangar. Despite not being in armor, the Astartes was quite a bit taller and broader built than Nicomedo, which especially showed in the confinement of the Adrastos' corridors. Seneca was only a few centimeters short from having to tilt his head away from the ceiling. The Inquisitor nodded. "Yes, I hope he'll be most forthcoming in the following days, still." He stopped in his tracks, looking up at the Ultramarine, running a hand over his chin and mouth. "The Genestealers had the number to utterly destroy us. I can't stop ask myself, why they did not. All I have to offer as an explanation are suspicions."

"Share them, Inquisitor." Seneca encouraged him. "The Inquisition will probably want a statement on the matter as well, with all the destruction suffered by this world, and the loss of our brothers and comrades."

His expression darkened. "I have heard the reports of the Astrophats: we've lost contact with the neighboring sector through some disturbance, which they called a shadow across the warp. It would seem the Hive Fleet is already on route to this world, and if the Brood was aware of this, I imagine their priority was to weaken the infrastructure. Under the direct influence of the Fleet, self-preservation is redundant; they were sacrificed to ensure the Tyranid's survival as a whole."

"A reasonable enough assumption." Seneca started walking again, along with the Inquisitor, who felt still weakened and struggled to keep up, though the Apothecary was already walking rather slowly.

The next few minutes they spent in silence, before slowly, and with some uncertainty in his voice, Nicomedo raised a question. He'd been asked this ever since they'd detected the shadow across the warp, and while he did his best to inspire faith, he himself was not free of doubts. Who better to turn to than a Space Marine, especially an Ultramarine in this situation. "Lord Seneca, I must ask one thing: do you believe we can win against the coming Hive Fleet?" Apothecary Seneca had fought when the Behemoth attack Macragge; who better to access the coming war?

Seneca took his time, only answering once they reached the hangar doors. "Our chances are slim at best. It will all depend on the size of the Hive Fleet and whether our Fleet will reach us in time to assist us, and even then…Inquisitor, you must accept that we are most likely going to lose this war, and the only thing we can truly do is to kill as many aliens as we can, weaken the Fleet as severely as possible, so that no other world will be devoured by them."

With a deep breath and some dry humored words, Nicomedo tried to hide his strain. "Well, at least I won't have to explain anything to my superiors anymore."

The Apothecary frowned, however didn't say anything, only bid his farewell to Nicomedo, who was about to return to the Governor's palace.

* * *

The light bulbs hummed peacefully, and too bright. His hand wandered over his face, down to his chin, running over a stubbly beard. Seemed he have slept quite a while. "Morning." A familiar voice welcomed him, tearing down any remnants of sleep. "You've been keeping things exciting for me. I was looking forward to some resolution."

Taylor grinned, eyes narrowly open. "Jane; is it just me or are we having a déjà vu." After all, this was pretty much how they'd first met. He looked around, finding himself on the med bay, in one of its ten bed, five on each wall. While the light here was relatively dim, the white painted walls reflected it countless times, making the room all the brighter.

"Almost, but this time you're sharing the room." With a nod Jane pointed out another man two beds father, one of the Storm Troopers, who was apparently still asleep.

"How long exactly was I out?"

"About three days, just enough time to fix you up." While she said it, the Medicae knocked her fingers against one of his legs. He didn't feel it.

Taylor caught a glance at her compassionate look, as he sat up and stared down at his legs. The right lower leg and foot was now made of cold metal, shimmering silver, red and blue cables visible through small gaps in the construction. It was actually an elegant piece of work, formed like an actual human leg, but Taylor could only look at it with some disbelieve; his first lost limb in the line of duty. He'd always known something like this would happen, though now…

"You're alright?"

"What? ...Oh yes, sure. I think I suspected it to hurt more, to feel…I don't know, foreign, strange but everything from the knee feels like it's not even there."

"We'll modify it with a few sensors, but that has time until tomorrow. First you should eat; hope you're hungry." She turned to get a tray closer to his bed, while he took a tube with his right hand.

"After an all-liquid diet? You really need to ask?" With a push on the button, Taylor prop up his bed's back rest, and let go of his feeding tube. "Mind if we remove this."

"Not a problem."

Taylor watched her as Jane pulled the needle out of his arm, finally remembering something else. "How are the others; they're alright?"

"Seth's alright, Nicomedo and Mandrake are fine as well, and have gone back to the palace, probably to discuss the coming invasion…"

"So the Tyranids are coming."

Suddenly Jane looked shocked. "I'm sorry; I forgot you couldn't know about this." She patched up the small wound before continuing, her body tense. "We've lost contact with the neighboring sector, so now everyone is preparing planetary forces for battle, and messages have been sent out to get us some reinforcements."

"You're afraid." It wasn't a question, but an assessment.

She looked back up again, a mixture of annoyance, anger and confusion in her expression. "Of course I am. Millions of aliens come to devour everything on this planet. Three Astartes and most of the Storm Troopers have already fallen." Her hands ran through her hair. "This is no longer one of our low-profile missions. There is going to be a war; and not even Nicomedo knows if we can win it."

"Hadn't had that since Petra." Their first mission together, the mission for which Nicomedo had originally recruited them for.

Jane shook her head. "There we had the possibility to leave, and Eldar faced Necron in battle. Here it's going to be on an Imperial world, and we'll fight among its citizens."

To her obvious surprise, Taylor smiled tired but kindly at her. "And as always you think too much. You're too concerned; there is absolutely nothing we can do about it, other than to fight when the time comes."

"Easy for someone to say, who is incapable of feeling fear." She growled back, and sighed. "Why do I always seem to get a headache, when talking to you?"

"It's just my charm…or the thing that I have no soul."

His words were met by an awkward chuckle from them both, and he finally began to eat, what appeared to be some sort of vegetable soup. Jane monitored him for a while, before leaving to check on her other patient. While eating, Taylor continued to watch her; just because he couldn't feel fear, didn't mean he wasn't concerned, at least for his friends' lives.

* * *

Nicomedo was dressed in his formal armor, gold, adored with imperial iconography, and purity seals. Over his back and shoulders hung a magenta mantle, both sword and Bolt Pistol carried in plain sight. His Interrogator stood beside him, both waiting for the Lord Governor of the Victoria Sector in his study. Unlike most of the palace this place was not only unharmed, but was not made of white stone and marble, instead the bookshelf-covered walls were cased with dark wood, as well as the ceiling and floor. In addition, the ceiling pieces were adorned with carvings of mystical figures and sigils, while a white fur covered most of the floor.

Two guards stood at the door, leading to the hallway from which the Inquisitor had come. Outside Medicae Jane was waiting. It wasn't necessary for her to stand guard, more a natural precaution, plus she later would meet with the Orders Hospitaller. Nicomedo's eyes wandered over the massive desk in front of them, which except for a few data-slates, and a flask of some alcoholic beverage was bare. Behind the throne-like chair was a tall window, at this point showing a beautiful cloud-free sky, instead there were several ships of the Imperial Navy patrolling over the planet.

Finally the second door, left of the desk, opened, and Captain Pericles entered, followed by Governor Elias Lazzaro. Both seemed to have recovered from the ordeals three days ago, Pericles even seemed delighted about meeting the Inquisitor again, where as Governor Lazzaro expression was grim, with a hint of fear. His face was unusually pale, dark rings were around his eyes. Today he was without his curly wig, showing that he in fact had short blond hair, which was already turning white, and wore a suit in the dark blue color of his house.

The Governor made the Sign of the Aquila, head bowed respectfully. Nicomedo and Mandrake returned the gesture, though the Inquisitor did not bow. "My Lord Inquisitor." Governor Lazzaro welcomed him. "Thank you for meeting me before session. Captain Pericles that would be all, please escort Medicae Pravin to the Canoness."

Pericles saluted, his eyes narrowed, obviously disgruntled. Quite frankly he'd looked like this since his entry. Without a word the Guard Captain left, though he shortly paused to give Nicomedo a rather appreciative nod. Only after the door had closed again the Governor continued, having sat down in his chair behind the desk, his grey eyes studying Nicomedo, while his fingers were constantly moving, tapping upon the back of his other hand; the Inquisitor attributed it to nervousness, along with the single drop of sweat at hair line. "Inquisitor Nicomedo, I am grateful for your rescue three days ago, but as I have told your Interrogator, I'm displeased I was not informed about the alien threat on my world, or even the possibility that they could have infiltrated my most trusted Guard. As you undoubtedly know, the Underhive is in peril, as Planetary Defense Forces and Guardsmen cleanse them from the remaining aggressors, riots become a growing problem. In short: it's war down there."

"As I have heard, the soldiers are killing everyone down there." Nicomedo noted dryly.

"Well, we don't have the time to test who is infected. The sisters of the Order Hospitaller are already checking every patient in their care, handing out their sigil to mark uninfected citizens, but giving our population it is impossible to check everyone."

While Nicomedo mourned the loss of so many innocent, he knew it was probably the only way to ensure, Victoria Primus would never suffer an infestation again. Certainly, it was cruel, but maybe preferable to the gruesome deaths they'd suffer once the Hive Fleet came here. The Underhive would not be defended in the coming conflict, and so the Tyranids would claim their first victims there. To the mutants and heretics down there, Nicomedo barley wasted a thought.

"Now, 20% of our Fleet have already been destroyed, another 46% is still being repaired, of which 15% will not be ready for battle before the Hive Fleet is here. PDF is down 49% so far, Emperor knows how many will die in the next days, and Imperial Guard has lost 31%." Governor Lazzaro sighed, filling a glass on his desk with a drink. He played with it between his hands for a while, watching the liquid swash back and forth, and for some reason Nicomedo found himself doing the same, just for a few seconds. "Our defenses are devastated, and we're drafting as many men and women as we can muster. What I like to know is: can we survive."

It was now the Inquisitor turn to sigh. Hadn't he just asked Apothecary Seneca the same thing? Now it was on him to show strength. "We can, but it will all depend on how well we defend this world, or should I say, where we concentrate our defenses? I am confident the fleet I demanded will show to assist us, and while Tyranids are a terrifying enemy, they are not unbeatable. Countless will die, but Victoria Primus can survive."

The Governor seemed slightly relieved by these words. "Good, I needed to hear that. I hope, Milord, that you have some experience in organizing a planetary defense."

Hope, Nicomedo thought quietly to himself, is the first step on the path to disappointment.

* * *

With the Inquisitor and Mandrake inside, Jane waited outside the study. She wasn't alone though; four guards stood watch, in full garments, just like the night of the Genestealer attack. About a quarter of an hour passed before the study's door opened again, though instead of Nicomedo, Captain Pericles came out. He was like his men in full armor, minus the helmet. Only a few well healed cut on his face remained from the fighting a few nights ago. His dire mood seemed to lighten somewhat, when he saw her. "Medicae Pravin. It's a pleasure seeing you again."

"The feeling mutual, Captain." Jane said with a salutatory nod and a smile on her lips. "It is good to see the palace back in working order."

"Yes, I'm afraid though worst times are still ahead of us. I assume that is why you're meeting with the Canoness Superior." With a simple gesture he beckoned her to come with him. "The Governor has asked me to bring you to her."

"Thank you. May I ask you something?"

"You just did." He pointed out. "But please, go ahead."

"I was interested to know how you came to join the Governor's Guard. Acolytes are usually chosen by our deeds, by our previous training; when I took care of that wound on your arm, I saw a typical Guardsmen tattoo." They wandered through a hall, which was still being repaired by a good dozen of workers, and where they had finished, artists restored paintings and mosaics. Their work seemed pointless to Jane, seeing as the Tyranids would soon destroy it again, but maybe it was just to keep to illusion of having everything under control.

Pericles watched them work before he answered her question. "I indeed have been with the Imperial Guard for several years. Two decades ago, I fought in a campaign against the Orcs, which were raiding a neighboring sector, and Governor Lazzaro was at that time also serving his time in the Guard, as most from the Noble houses do here; you could say it's a tradition. Anyway, during the final battle I was able to save the Lord Lazzaro's life, which he never forgot. Upon our return to Victoria Primus he offered me a place in his house's Guard, and when he became Governor two years later, brought me along. Some were envious, or at least displeased with my quick rise through the ranks, and I'm afraid the Genestealer attack has not helped things."

"And Governor Lazzaro?"

"He is…disappointed." Captain Pericles replied, choosing his words carefully. "He believes I've neglected my duties, and therefore allowed the Palace Guard to be infiltrated."

"But not even the infected knew until the attack that they were sleeper agents."

"It matters little. We've lost more than half our numbers, and several Nobles have been killed, or were later executed; their deaths are partially my fault." Jane didn't respond, but felt sympathy for the Captain; from what she'd seen, he appeared capable enough, and even killed the second Magus himself. He stopped at an undecorated and rather inconspicuous door, compared to the rest on this level of the palace. "Now, we shouldn't keep the good Canoness waiting."

* * *

Victoria Primus had just recently lost her ability to communicate with other sectors; the Hive Fleet was very close by, first mutating plants had been spotted, and the Acolytes spoke of great tension among the planet's forces and leadership. In the armory, Cyrus was cleaning his weapons, just finishing up his sniper rifle. His eyes briefly wandered to the Plasma Pistol, which was next in line. Hate of the Xenos was a unique Plasma Pistol, and had once belonged to brother Trythios, the first Blood Raven to serve in the Deathwatch. Since that time, Hate of the Xenos had always accompanied any Blood Raven to serve the Ordo Xenos' Chamber Militant, the latest to carry it Devastator Sergeant Brin.

Cyrus looked up, as Nadim approached him, carrying the Blood Ravens repaired armor. "You know, if you didn't make that grim face all the time, I would have said Quintus paid you a visit." He put the armor next to him on the bench, and sat down himself adverse to his brother.

"As a matter of fact, he has." He put the sniper aside, to take a look at his armor. "Thank you for repairing it."

"Think nothing of it. So, what did our over-zealous brother say you?"

"He attempted to threaten me." Cyrus regarded his brother. "You too?"

Nadim shrugged indifferent. "He pointed out that my skin complexion is definitive proof of flaw and mutation in my chapter's gene-seed; shouldn't have expected anything else from a Red Scorpion. I pray that after this mission, I'm spared his company."

"I take it you intend to stay with the Deathwatch."

"Yes, and you, Cyrus?"

He set his armor aside, eyes briefly resting on his chapter's badge. "I'll request to return to my chapter. For almost two hundred years now, I have fought for the Ordo Xenos, against almost any form of alien that lurks out there. It is time I take my knowledge back home."

"Then with the Tyranids your list should be completed." Nadim was right; Orcs, Eldar from Craft- and Maiden World, their fallen kin, Tau and even Necrons. With the coming war, he would have been pitted against every major alien threat. "I believe the Inquisitor will see your duty with the Deathwatch as fulfilled, so you better stay alive. Who knows, the day might come that your chapter benefits from your experience."

Cyrus gave him a dry smile, and turned to his shotgun.

* * *

_pacem volo, bellum paro_

It's peace I want, so I prepare for war


End file.
